But It Was Just An Accident!
by storymom
Summary: For you, Maud. Maybe not exactly what you were looking for. Just a short story about Sandy hurting Ryan. Accidently, of course. I still own zip when it comes to The OC, Fox, the characters, anything.
1. Default Chapter

Ryan sat on the side of his bed staring down at the sandals on his feet. Sandals, I can't believe I'm wearing sandals, he thought, I can't believe I even own sandals, let alone two different kinds of sneakers, cleats, dress shoes, boots, even slippers. And none of them were cheap, bought in a discount store or asked for. They just appeared, along with the expensive pants and fancy suits. Even his tee shirts. He was used to tee shirts that came three in a package. Not anymore. Ryan knew even his tee shirts weren't cheap. If he were still in Chino, he'd never wear sandals. He never even owned sandals. But this wasn't Chino. He returned to his life in Newport. Sometimes he still couldn't believe it. Any of it. Not the mess with Teresa, not her fake pregnancy to get him to go back to Chino, not the fact the Cohens took him back with open arms. None of it. The summer had only just begun, and Ryan was already worn out and tired.  
  
As he looked back down at his overpriced sandals, Ryan also couldn't believe it was six o'clock in the morning on a Saturday, and he was awake and contemplating footwear.  
  
But it was because he had choosen this life in Newport that had him up at six o'clock in the morning, dressed in his overpriced sandals, tee shirt and a bathing suit. Sandy had been bugging Ryan to try surfing with him, until Ryan finally agreed. Ryan felt like he had no choice. Sandy and Kirsten were very understanding and kind during the whole Teresa diseaster, and he felt like he had no choice but do what ever they asked of him. Even if that meant getting up at 6 o'clock on a Saturday morning to go surfing.  
  
As Ryan shuffled into the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee, he noticed Sandy already up, dressed, ready and waiting. One look at Sandy, and suddenly Ryan felt a whole lot better. Yeah, maybe he was wearing sandals but at least his bathing suit and tee shirt were dark blue. Sandy had on the same sandals, but he also had on a white bathing suit covered in big orange flowers and some awful gray tee shirt with something about the Bronx on it. And at six o'clock in the morning, a Saturday morning, and without his cup of coffee, Ryan could care less what the tee shirt said.  
  
"Hey, you're up!" Sandy said, a little too cheerfully, "I thought maybe you baled on me!"  
  
"You mean baling was an option?" Ryan mumbled, grabbing his cup for coffee.  
  
Sandy laughed, "Nope, not anymore. Come on. You're up. You're dressed. It'll be great. I promise you, there's nothing like it. Getting out, catching a few waves. It clears the mind and its good for the body. You'll love it."  
  
"It's just," Ryan started to explain, again, "I think I'm too old to learn how to surf. Seth said he was like eight when he learned." Ryan had already tried explaining this to Sandy before, so he pretty much knew what Sandy's response was going to be, and he was right.  
  
"Yeah," Sandy said, "But remember, I didn't start until I was sixteen. There weren't too many opportunities to surf in the Bronx. But once I came out here, and caught my first wave, well, the rest, they say, is history."  
  
"But it's six o'clock in the morning. On a Saturday. During summer vacation." Ryan said. He knew he was whining, but he really wasn't much of a morning person.  
  
"Now you sound like Seth," Sandy told him, "Surfing early in the morning is the best time. No one is out there, the waves are at their best, and it gets you going for the day. And you're the one who wanted to wait until summer vacation."  
  
"But it's six o'clock in the morning." Ryan again reminded him before continuing, "Besides, I, uh, thought you weren't supposed to go in the ocean at dawn and dusk."  
  
Sandy looked strangely at Ryan, and then asked, "Why?"  
  
Ryan knew what he was about to say sounded stupid, even before he said it,  
  
"I saw this show, on the Discovery channel, that says sharks like to feed close to shore at dawn and dusk so that's when you should avoid the water."  
  
First Sandy laughed and then he told Ryan,  
  
"Now you really do sound like Seth. Next thing I know you'll be whining about swimming with the fish like Kirsten. I've been surfing in the morning for twenty-five years, and I've never even seen a shark. So I doubt you have anything to worry about. Come on, it'll be fun. I promise, nothing's going to happen other then the fact you'll learn that you love surfing, and then at least one of my boys will appreciate the sport for what it is."  
  
Great, Ryan thought. How can I say No when he calls me one of his boys, especially when I know he really means it? I really hate when he does that. Then Ryan sighed. Well, not really, he thought. Only at six o'clock in the morning. On a Saturday morning. During summer vacation.  
  
Sandy interrupted Ryan's thoughts, "Come on. Let's move. The boards are already in the car."  
  
Ryan looked at him very skeptically, "And nothing's going to happen?" he asked.  
  
Sandy just smiled and put his arm around Ryan, and as they headed out the door, he told him,  
  
"Ryan, I promise. Nothing's going to happen. You'll love it!" 


	2. The Doctor

"Ryan, I promise, nothing's going to happen." Ryan sarcastically mimicked.  
  
They were in HOAG emergency room not even two hours later, waiting for someone to call Ryan in to an examining room.  
  
"Ryan," Sandy said, "It was an accident. I'm sorry. Really sorry. I didn't see you."  
  
"You broke my arm." Ryan said.  
  
Even though Sandy secretly agreed with Ryan that his arm was most definitely broken, he tried to stay positive, "We don't know for sure that it's broken. It may just be bruised. Or sprained. Let's just wait and see what the doctor has to say."  
  
Ryan just shook his head and asked, "How could you not see me?"  
  
Before Sandy could get a chance to explain again and apologize again, the nurse came out and called Ryan into an examining room.  
  
"Okay. What seems to be the problem this morning?" the nurse asked as the two followed her into the examining room. Father and son? She hoped, even though they didn't look anything a like.  
  
Ryan thought about his answer as he sat on the bed. Considering the fact he was dressed only in a bathing suit and sandals, cradling his right arm, which was bend in a pretty odd way, he thought it was pretty obvious what the problem was. But the nurse was kind of cute, and seemed really nice so he fought back his first response and just said, "He broke my arm."  
  
The nurse stared at Ryan for a second and then looked over at the man standing next to him before she asked, "Oh, and how did he do that?"  
  
"He hit me with a surf board." Ryan answered.  
  
"On purpose or by accident?" the nurse asked as she picked up Ryan's chart and began to make notes.  
  
"By accident!" Sandy said, very defensively.  
  
The nurse looked at Ryan to see his reaction, and when Ryan just shrugged and nodded his head, she turned back to Sandy and asked, "And you are?"  
  
"I'm his.... father." Sandy answered, still a little too defensive and really never sure what to say to that question. Then he went on to explain, "And it really was an accident. We were surfing, and I didn't see Ryan sitting on his board, and we kind of crashed into each other."  
  
"You crashed into me," Ryan corrected, "And now I know why you've never seen a shark. If you could miss me sitting on a surf board in the middle of the ocean with no one else around then I could see you missing a shark unless it came up and bit you on your........"  
  
"Ryan!" Sandy warned and then said, "Look, I know you're mad, but I am really sorry. It really was an accident."  
  
Ryan just sighed and shook his head, "I'm not mad." he said, "I just can't believe the first time I agree to go surfing with you, my arm gets broken."  
  
But again, Sandy just told him, "We don't know for sure yet that it's broken."  
  
The nurse tried hard to suppress a smile. She didn't want to laugh, not at the kid with a broken arm, or the father who broke it. As she began to take Ryan's vitals, she turned to Sandy and broke the news to him, "I know I'm not a doctor, and we will have to wait for the x-rays. But your son's arm? Definitely broken."  
  
"Ok," she smiled at Ryan, "Your blood pressure, temperature and pulse are all normal. The doctor will be in shortly to examine your arm and order some x-rays. I'll see you again when its time to put the cast on."  
  
Sandy watched the nurse leave. Even though he already knew that he did in fact break Ryan's arm, just having the nurse confirm it made him feel a whole lot worse.  
  
"How you holding up?" he asked as he hovered over Ryan, "Does it still hurt a lot? I'm sure they can give you something for the pain."  
  
Yeah, it hurts. It hurts like hell, Ryan thought, but he just told Sandy, "Its okay. How long do you think I'll need a cast?"  
  
"I don't know. Few weeks. Maybe a month. Not really sure," Sandy told him, and then again said, "Ryan, I am sorry."  
  
Ryan attempted to smile at Sandy, "I know. You keep saying that. It's okay. Really. It was just an accident. I know that. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I know it was an accident."  
  
Even though Sandy knew Ryan meant what he said and really didn't blame him, Sandy couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty. He could only smile at Ryan as the door opened.  
  
"Good morning. I'm Dr. Cunningham," the doctor said, "I see by the chart that you had a surfing accident. What happened?"  
  
Ryan pointed at Sandy and told the doctor, "He broke my arm."  
  
"Ryan," Sandy said, "Stop saying that."  
  
But Ryan just shrugged and told them both, "But it sounds funny."  
  
"It's not funny." Sandy advised him, "It was an accident. Look, Dr. Cunningham, we were surfing this morning. Ryan was sitting on his board. I was riding a wave in and didn't see him until it was too late. I jumped off my board to try to avoid a collision, but my board came down on his arm."  
  
"On his arm?" The doctor repeated. Even to Ryan and Sandy the story sounded strange, so they both could only imagine what the doctor thought.  
  
"I put my arm up to protect my head," Ryan clarified, "Otherwise I'd have to say he broke my head."  
  
Dr. Cunningham only nodded and began to examine Ryan's wrist and arm. As he did, Sandy couldn't help but notice Ryan wincing and grimacing and biting down on his lip. Sandy knew it must hurt like hell, but Ryan never said a word. And that made Sandy feel even worse.  
  
After he was done, Dr. Cunningham picked up Ryan's chart and began making notes before telling them, "Well, I'd venture to guess there are at least two fractures. We'll do some x-rays to see how serious the breaks are and have an orthopedist come in as well. Hopefully we'll be able to set the breaks without the need for pins or screws."  
  
"Pins or screws? In my arm?" Ryan asked.  
  
"Why. Why would you have to do that?" Sandy stuttered.  
  
The doctor looked from Ryan to Sandy. It was hard to tell who was more upset. The poor kid with the broken arm, or the poor father who caused the broken arm.  
  
"If the breaks are serious enough, then we may have to operate to reset the bones," Dr. Cunningham explained, "It's hard to tell right now. We'll get a better understanding of the severity with the x-rays. But Ryan, given how swollen and misshapen your arm is, it is a possibility. Someone will be in shortly to take you to radiology. In the meantime, I've ordered something for the pain, and I'll contact the orthopedist on call."  
  
After the doctor left, Ryan laid back on the bed. The idea of surgery made the saying 'he broke my arm' no longer very funny.  
  
"Real nice bed side manner." Ryan snidely said of the dearly departed doctor.  
  
"Ryan," Sandy said, "It's going to be okay. Just relax. It'll be okay. I promise."  
  
Ryan just stared at Sandy. It was pretty obvious that he was upset and full of guilt so Ryan knew it wouldn't do any good to complain or whine. It was an accident, plain and simple. Ryan knew Sandy would never do anything to intentionally hurt him.  
  
A short time later, the cute nurse returned with Ryan's pain medication. "Have you ever had morphine?" she asked, holding up a needle. Ryan just nodded his head.  
  
"Any reaction?" she asked. This time Ryan just shook his head. He never took his eyes off the shot. He hated needles. But he didn't want to say anything, not to the real cute nurse or to the guilt ridden Sandy. So he just turned away when the nurse injected the morphine into his thigh.  
  
"There." She said when she was done, "You should feel some relief shortly. Someone from radiology will be here in a little bit to take you for x-rays. If you need anything, my name is Annie."  
  
Ryan lay back again and closed his eyes. He decided to try to relax and wait for the morphine to kick in.  
  
"What time is it?" Ryan asked a little while later, not opening his eyes.  
  
"It's after nine," Sandy told him, "How you doing?"  
  
"Good." Ryan said, with a slight smile. The morphine was beginning to kick in and take the edge off both the pain and his apprehension about surgery.  
  
"You know," Ryan told Sandy, with a smirk, "I'm not going surfing with you again. Not for a long time. A really, really long time."  
  
"Yeah, I kind of guessed that already, kid." Sandy said, as he leaned down and squeezed Ryan's left shoulder.  
  
Sandy watched a few minutes later as an orderly took Ryan down to radiology in a wheelchair. He realized that he had to call Kirsten and tell her where they were and explain to her how he broke Ryan's arm. It was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to. 


	3. Kirsten

Kirsten quickly left the house after leaving Seth a note to get over to the hospital. Sandy told her that she didn't need to come, but she was just as concerned about Ryan as he was. She just wasn't feeling as guilty as Sandy sounded. She knew Sandy would continue to blame himself, and as she drove to the hospital, she realized that she was blaming him, too. She knew it was an accident. Sandy would never intentionally hurt Ryan, but Ryan did not want to go surfing. Sandy kept pushing him to try it until Ryan finally gave in. Seth would have never give in, not matter what Sandy said. Kirsten knew the only reason Ryan said yes was to make Sandy happy. He really needed to stop doing that, stop trying to do everything just to make them happy. As if he hadn't already been through enough, summer vacation had just started and now Ryan was in the hospital with a broken arm and facing surgery. Just the thought made her drive a little faster, and she got to the hospital before radiology even had Ryan's x-rays ready.  
  
"Hey, sweetie," she said as she walked into the examining room. Ryan was lying on the bed with his eyes closed looking very peaceful, but Kirsten immediately noticed his right arm. It was swollen and purple and bend very strangely. It looked so ugly and so painful.  
  
Ryan opened his eyes at the sound of Kirsten's voice, "Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked her.  
  
As she brushed his hair away from his forehead, Kirsten smiled and told him, "I was going to ask you the same thing."  
  
Ryan laughed a little and told her, "Sandy broke my arm."  
  
Kirsten looked at Ryan, trying to figure out what would be so funny and when he didn't answer, she looked at Sandy who simply said, "Morphine." Kirsten just nodded before telling Ryan, "I take it this means you didn't like surfing."  
  
"Nah," Ryan admitted, "It was fun. I kinda liked it. Until Sandy broke my arm."  
  
"Ryan," Sandy said, "I really wish you'd stop saying that."  
  
Ryan closed his eyes again before telling them both, "I told you. It sounds funny."  
  
"Ryan, I don't think it's so funny," Kirsten told him, "You know, you could have just said no. You didn't have to go surfing if you didn't want to."  
  
Ryan only nodded, still a little out of it from the morphine, but Sandy quickly jumped on what Kirsten was trying to say.  
  
"I didn't force Ryan to go surfing. He wanted to go." Sandy told her, again back on the defensive.  
  
"He only agreed to go because you wanted him to go." Kirsten snapped, "You may not have physically dragged him down to the beach, but you kept pestering him to try it until he finally gave in." She couldn't help snapping at Sandy. She was annoyed at this whole mess.  
  
Sandy sharply told her, "Look, I know the accident was my fault. But I didn't force him. If he wanted to say no, he could have said no. Besides, he said he liked it, and it was kind of fun until...."  
  
"Until you broke his arm." Kirsten finished for him.  
  
Ryan just looked from Kirsten to Sandy. Normally it didn't really bother him to hear their occasional arguments. He knew they had a strong marriage, that they loved each other. He'd walked in on them more then once showing exactly how much they loved each other, so the occasional argument didn't faze him. But this time, they were arguing about him, and he didn't think that was exactly right.  
  
"Uh, guys," Ryan interrupted, "Really, it's okay. Kirsten, I really did like surfing, and I did want to try it. I just thought I was too old, but I was having fun. Sandy, the accident wasn't completely your fault. I could have tried to get out of the way, too. But I didn't. I just sat there. So, just don't. Okay? You don't need to fight over it. It was an accident."  
  
"Ryan, we weren't fighting," Kirsten said, "We were just talking about what happened."  
  
"Yeah, well, you were starting to talk about it a little too loudly." Ryan told them both.  
  
"Okay. We won't talk about it anymore." Sandy said, to both Ryan and Kirsten, "But Ryan, this accident. It was not your fault."  
  
None of them said anything for a few minutes. On top of feeling guilty about the accident, now Sandy felt bad about arguing with Kirsten in front of Ryan. Ryan didn't need to listen to parents fighting right in front of him. He'd probably heard enough fighting to last him a lifetime. And Kirsten didn't say anything because she, too, felt bad about starting an argument with Sandy. She knew he already felt guilty enough. She shouldn't have started with him, at least not in front of Ryan. She should have waited until they were home. Ryan didn't say anything because he really couldn't think of anything to say. Not for a few minutes anyway, until he finally sighed, "What could be taking so long?"  
  
Sandy just shrugged and looked towards the door; somehow thinking it would magically open. "I'm not sure. They probably need to get in touch with the orthopedist. Why? Are you okay? Does it still hurt? Do you need anything?"  
  
"I need to go home." Ryan told him.  
  
"Soon." Kirsten promised, "It should be soon. Just relax."  
  
Soon came quicker then they all thought, as the door to Ryan's room opened and Dr. Cunningham walked in followed by another doctor and a woman dressed in a business suit, carrying a file.  
  
"Ryan," Dr. Cunningham said, "This is Dr. Gross. He's the orthopedist I was telling you about. He'd like to look at your arm."  
  
Ryan only nodded and sat up. He wondered why Dr. Cunningham was only addressing him and who this woman was. She obviously wasn't a doctor, so Ryan couldn't figure out why she was in the room, too.  
  
After a brief but painful exam, Dr. Gross just nodded at Dr. Cunningham, who turned to Sandy and said, "Mr. Cohen, would you mind if we had a brief word with you. Outside."  
  
"Why?" Ryan demanded to know, "What's going on?"  
  
"Ryan," this unidentified woman asked, "I was just wondering, how many other accidents have you had before this one?"  
  
"A couple." Ryan mumbled. "Why?"  
  
"Don't worry, Ryan." Dr. Cunningham said, "We just need a word outside with Mr. Cohen, and then we'll be back in to discuss everything with you."  
  
But Ryan wasn't convinced. He had a sinking feeling what they were getting at, and he began to strongly suspect whom this woman was. "Why can't you discuss it in here now? It's my arm. Discuss it with me." Ryan demanded.  
  
"Ryan, just relax. I'm sure it's nothing. I'll be right back." Sandy told him as he began to follow the three out of the room.  
  
"Mr. Cohen, can you please explain again how this accident occurred?" The woman asked once they were all in the halfway and Ryan's door was closed.  
  
"Just as soon as you identify who you are, I will gladly explain what happened." Sandy told her.  
  
Dr. Cunningham, no longer attempting to be civil, advised Sandy, "Mr. Cohen, this is Rosemarie Star from Social Services. We have some questions about Ryan."  
  
"What kind of questions?" Sandy asked, as he reached for his wallet, ready to pull out his business card.  
  
"Like how many times has Ryan broken his arm in accidents before this one?" Dr. Gross asked.  
  
"I don't know." Sandy told them, "I assumed this was the first time."  
  
"So you don't even know how many other times your son has broken his arm?" Ms. Star asked.  
  
"No, I don't." Sandy told them, "Because Ryan is my foster son, hence the different last names. He came to live with us last year after leaving an abusive family." Sandy pulled out a card from his wallet and flicked it to Ms. Star. "Here is my business card. If you have any questions, or need any documentation, please feel free to call this number and ask for my associate, Rachel. She will be happy to forward you any information you need."  
  
Ms. Star only nodded as she accepted the business card. She looked over at Dr. Cunningham and Dr. Gross before shaking her head. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Cohen." She said, "But when there are suspected cases of abuse, we do need to investigate as quickly as possible. And sometimes we jump too quickly to the wrong conclusions. I hope you can understand."  
  
"No, I understand," Sandy told her, "Its better to be safe then sorry. And I promise you, this was just an accident. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt Ryan. But feel free to contact my office. They'll supply you with any information you need."  
  
"Thank you." Ms. Star said as she turned and left, not without first giving Dr. Cunningham another look.  
  
"Mr. Cohen, I apologize. You identified yourself as Ryan's father, and then when we saw Ryan's x-ray, well, it raised suspicions." Dr. Cunningham said, suddenly regretting the rash decision he made to contact the Social Services Department.  
  
Sandy first nodded before telling the doctor, "I should have clarified my relationship with Ryan. I just didn't think it was that important to explain. He's like a son to my wife and me. But what's wrong with his x- rays?"  
  
As Dr. Gross put Ryan's x-ray up on the board and flipped on the light, he explained, "It appears that Ryan has fractured his right arm at least three other times. With the two fractures he has today, that's a total of five breaks to one arm in only sixteen years."  
  
"Two fractures?" Sandy asked, although just looking at Ryan's x-ray, it was obvious that his arm was broken, even for someone without a medical background.  
  
Dr. Gross pulled out his pen and as he pointed to the x-ray, he explained, "This first fracture to the wrist is called a scaphoid fracture. It's a fairly common break, usually resulting from some sort of blunt force trauma that bends the wrist backwards. There are many different ways to fix scaphoid fractures. One of the more recent developments is something called a "Herbert screw" which has threads on both ends and is placed completely inside the bone."  
  
Dr. Gross waited until Sandy nodded that he understood what he was saying before continuing, "This fracture here to the forearm is what we call a comminuted fracture, one in which the bone has been fractured in 2 or more fragments. The radius has been broken here and here. To fix this fracture we're going to attach a steel plate with screws that we will drill into the bone. It covers the top of the bone and holds it together."  
  
"So Ryan definitely needs surgery?" Sandy asked, although it was more of a rhetorical question since the doctor had just finished explaining that to him. "I just can't believe that all of this could result from one surfboard. It couldn't have hit him that hard for it to cause so much damage." Sandy continued.  
  
"It all depends on how the surfboard landed. The way it came down. That coupled with the previous bone fractures, and yes, this much damage can and was done to his arm." Dr. Cunningham explained.  
  
"It's just, he's such an athletic kid. Lifts weights, plays soccer." Sandy tried to explain. If he thought he was feeling guilty before, now knowing that Ryan needed surgery made him feel even worse.  
  
"Sandy," Kirsten said as she came out of Ryan's room, "What's going on? Ryan is getting really upset in there. He keeps trying to get out of bed. Said he has to talk to the doctors. What's wrong? Where's the woman from social services?"  
  
"How'd you know she was from social services?" Sandy asked.  
  
"Ryan knew. That's what has him so upset." Kirsten told them, "What's going on?"  
  
"We were just explaining Ryan's injuries to your husband, Mrs. Cohen," Dr. Cunningham said, "But I do think it would be wise to explain everything to Ryan."  
  
"Does Ryan need surgery?" Kirsten asked. Sandy could only nod and look down as his feet as he told her, "yes," and walked back into Ryan's room.  
  
"Well?" Ryan said as they all returned to his room. It was clear to everyone that Ryan was now very much on edge.  
  
"Well, what?" Sandy asked.  
  
"Well, where is she? What did she ask you?" he asked Sandy, but then turned to the doctors before Sandy had a chance to say anything and said, "He didn't intentionally break my arm if that's what you're thinking. It was a joke. It wasn't his fault. I got in the way of the surfboard. That's all. It's my own fault. Not his. There was no reason to get Social Services involved in an accident."  
  
"Ryan," Sandy explained, "Social Services is not involved. Ms. Star had a few questions, and then she left. That's all. I told you it was going to be nothing, and it was. You need to calm down. And I've already told you, this accident is in no way your fault."  
  
"Then what took so long?" Ryan wanted to know. He didn't think Sandy would lie to him, but he knew that if social services was investigating the accident, it was not a good thing. It never was.  
  
"You need surgery." Sandy told him. "To fix the breaks to the bones in your wrist and in your arm. And the doctors were just explaining the surgery to me."  
  
"Surgery?" Ryan asked, "For a broken arm? I've never needed surgery before. The other times they just put a cast on my arm and that was it. Why would I need surgery this time?"  
  
"Given the way your arm was broken this time, both at the wrist and at the forearm, coupled with the number of other fractures you've sustained in a relatively short span of time necessitates surgery this time." Dr. Gross explained.  
  
Ryan hated the way they all looked at him as Dr. Gross stressed 'the number of other fractures.' He couldn't help but feel a certain amount of shame at the fact this wasn't his first broken arm, and they all knew it.  
  
"It still doesn't make any sense. All kids have accidents. I just had a couple of accidents." he tried to explain so they'd stop feeling sorry for him.

When Kirsten just rubbed the back of his neck and Sandy said, "Yeah. We know, kid," Ryan knew. After a year of wondering, the doctors finally gave Sandy and Kirsten some proof of what Ryan's life was like before he came to Newport.  
  
"So, tell me about this surgery." Ryan finally said, wanting more then anything to change the subject.  
  
"To fix the break at your wrist we're going to put in a screw. It will hold the bone together so it will heal stronger. The break further up your arm will be held together by a plate that we will attach with screws. We'll close the incisions with dissolvable stitches so there will be no need to worry about them. You'll be asleep during the whole thing, and when you wake up, your arm will be in a cast from your fingertips to just above your elbow. Any questions so far?" Dr. Gross explained.  
  
"How long will I be in a cast?" Ryan asked.  
  
Dr. Gross knew that would be the first question Ryan would have so he didn't hesitate as he told Ryan, "You'll be in a cast for about ten to twelve weeks."  
  
Ten to twelve weeks, the entire summer. Ryan's entire summer would be spent in a cast. After finding that out, Ryan had no other questions.  
  
Sandy noticed the look in Ryan's eyes, and knew what he was thinking. It killed Sandy just a little more as he watched the realization sink in; that Ryan now knew his entire summer was ruined. All because Sandy pushed him to try surfing.  
  
Sandy tried to smile as he gave Ryan's leg a light squeeze and told him that he would discuss the specifics of the surgery with the doctors and would be right back. Ryan only nodded and closed his eyes. To Ryan, there was nothing left to discuss.  
  
Kirsten leaned forward and gave Ryan a light kiss on his forehead as she followed Sandy and the doctors out of the room. She knew Ryan was upset, and that made her mad all over again.


	4. Going Parental

When Sandy and Kirsten walked back into Ryan's room, they saw that he still had his eyes closed, and his jaw clenched. They both knew he was mad and upset and hurt. And they both knew all of those feelings were directed towards Sandy, and that Ryan would never say anything.  
  
"Okay, so this is what's happening," Sandy decided to explain, "Someone should be here shortly to start the preparations. Then the anesthesiologist will be in to ask some questions, get our consent and start an IV. After that they'll come and take you up to surgery. The surgery itself should only take a couple of hours. After that, you'll go to recovery, and you'll stay there for a little while. Then you'll be moved to a room for a little while longer. If all goes well, we'll be home later tonight."  
  
Sandy knew he was talking fast, and doubted Ryan understood everything he just said. So he waited, for Ryan to acknowledge him. Just when he thought Ryan was asleep, or pretending to be asleep, Sandy heard him say, "Okay."  
  
Okay?" Sandy repeated, "No questions? Nothing else you want to know?"  
  
Ryan just sighed and said, "No."  
  
"Ryan." Sandy said, and when he didn't get an answer, Sandy said a little louder, "Ryan."  
  
Ryan still didn't answer, but he did finally open his eyes and look at Sandy.  
  
"I am sorry." Sandy said.  
  
"I know, Sandy. I know. You said that already. More then once." An obviously exasperated Ryan told him, "It was an accident. I know. Don't worry about it."  
  
"I am worried about it. And I'm worried about you." Sandy said, "What's wrong? I mean besides the broken arm. Is it the surgery? How long you'll be in a cast?"  
  
"It's nothing." Ryan answered. "We all know it's not like I haven't broken my arm before."  
  
"No, but it's the first time I've broken your arm." Sandy attempted to joke.  
  
"I wouldn't say that too loudly. God only knows who they may call the next time we attempt a joke." Ryan snidely said.  
  
"Is that what's bothering you?" Sandy asked, "The woman from Social Services? Ryan, I told you, it was nothing. I promise, there is no investigation. There is nothing to worry about. She had some concerns because this isn't your first broken arm. She asked her questions. I answered her questions. She left. End of the story. I promise you, kid, there is nothing else to it."  
  
Ryan just mumbled, "Fine," and closed his eyes again. He didn't feel like talking anymore. Unfortunately, Kirsten and Sandy still felt like talking, like always.  
  
"So what else is it, Ryan?" Kirsten asked him, as she again began brushing his hair out of his face.  
  
"I said it was nothing." Ryan snapped as he jerked his head away from Kirsten's touch. But then quickly opened his eyes when he realized what he had done.  
  
"I'm sorry." He said quickly. "It's just. Really it's nothing. Just tired."  
  
Kirsten could only smile at him before she told him, "Well, I guess you have the right to be tired. And maybe a little worried, and I would definitely say you have every right to be mad."  
  
"I'm not mad." Ryan answered, again very quickly.  
  
"You're not?" Kirsten said, "Well, I am. And I don't mean at Sandy, or at you. But at the circumstances. They're not very fair, are they?"  
  
"No." Ryan said. He didn't know what else to say. They weren't fair, but they never were. Not in his life. Not ever.  
  
Sandy was starting to understand what Kirsten was getting at. Ryan wasn't really mad at him, but at yet another twist of fate, more of that Atwood bad luck Ryan sometimes mentioned. A simple accident ruined all the plans Ryan had for the summer, including his part time job.  
  
"Remind me to call the Crab Shack and tell them you can't start on Monday." Sandy said.  
  
"No, don't. I think I may be able to still work." Ryan said. It wouldn't be easy, but he hoped his boss would be a little understanding, given the circumstances and would at least let him try.  
  
"No, you can't." Kirsten told him, and Sandy asked, "How do you figure on working with a broken arm, Ryan?"  
  
"I still have my left arm. I can carry one dish at a time in the beginning, and then I could probably manage smaller plates with my right arm eventually." Ryan told them.  
  
Kirsten just shook her head as Sandy told him, "I don't think that's a good idea, Ryan. I doubt your boss would go for it. And even if he did, we don't agree with it. You don't need to put that kind of stress on your arm or yourself just for a part time summer job."  
  
"Then what kind of job can I get?" Ryan asked. "I need some kind of job."  
  
"Ryan, you can't work this summer." Kirsten told him, "Not with a broken arm, especially your right arm. This summer is going to be very relaxing for you." Kirsten almost said boring, that his summer was going to be boring, but caught herself before it was too late.  
  
"Yeah," Sandy agreed, "You can go to the movies. Take Marissa to dinner, walk the boardwalk, hang out at the beach. Ok, you can't really go in the water, but you can still hang out. There are a lot of other fun things you can do, even with one arm."  
  
"But without a job, I can't exactly pay for all those other fun things." Ryan mumbled. He really wasn't talking to them, just talking out loud.  
  
"Don't worry about a job, Ryan." Sandy said, "And don't worry about the money. I have your tax return from last year. I know how much you made last August. It's easy enough to cover that, plus whatever you would have made for June and July."  
  
"I can't ask you to do that." Ryan told him, "I can't take your money. I'm sure I can find something."  
  
"Ryan. You can't work this summer. Not with your arm." Sandy said his tone quickly changing from lighthearted to one that told Ryan to stop arguing.  
  
"It's funny. We never seem to have this argument with Seth. He has no problem taking our money." Kirsten said, trying to lighten the mood. She knew from experience that the two of them could both be so stubborn sometimes, and this was quickly becoming one of those times.  
  
Ryan just closed his eyes again as he muttered, "Seth has more of a right to it."  
  
"Actually, I'd say you had more right, what with your arm. Seth could still get a job. He has two good arms. He just chooses not to." Sandy told him.  
  
Ryan just sighed loudly and shook his head. Sometimes he really hated when they played stupid, like they didn't know what he was talking about. He also knew he wasn't going to win the argument. It was pretty much the same argument they had the summer before, when school started and they expected him to quit the Crab Shack. They wouldn't let him work during the school year, and insisted on giving him an allowance. He had never in his life been given an allowance.  
  
"Someone should be here soon. They said the surgery would be within an hour or two, so I don't know what could be taking so long." Kirsten said. She was talking out loud and not to anyone in particular.  
  
They both noticed as Ryan's eyes shot open, and he began to stare blankly at the ceiling.  
  
"Ryan," Kirsten said softly, "It's okay. We're all worried about you having surgery. But it'll be fine. You'll be fine. I know the idea of surgery is scary, especially for the first time, but you'll come through it just fine. I promise."  
  
"It's not the first time." Ryan said, still staring blankly at the ceiling.  
  
At first Kirsten just said, "Oh," but when she went to ask him more about it, she noticed Sandy shake his head and give her his 'we'll talk about it later' look.  
  
Luckily for all of them, Ryan's door opened and the nurse, Annie, walked in.  
  
"Well, I guess this really isn't your day," she said, with a sincere smile. "They just called from upstairs. They'll be ready for Ryan in about forty-five minutes, so we need to get you ready. First we need to get you changed out of your bathing suit and into a hospital gown."  
  
Kirsten and Sandy both just nodded as Annie placed the hospital gown down at the foot of Ryan's bed, and turned to place her other stuff down when she heard Ryan shriek, "What are you doing?"  
  
She turned suddenly, thinking something was wrong and couldn't believe the scene behind her as Mrs. Cohen now had both hands around the waist of Ryan's bathing suit. That coupled with the look of pure panic on Ryan's face made her laugh out loud.  
  
"Ryan, you heard the nurse. You need to take off the bathing suit and put on the hospital gown." Kirsten told him, not letting go of the suit.  
  
"Yes. I need to take off my suit. Not you." Ryan told her, with a voice cracking from both shock and fear.  
  
"You can't do it alone." Kirsten said, but Ryan quickly shot back, "Well, you aren't doing it."  
  
"Mrs. Cohen," Annie finally said after regaining her composure, "I think it would be best if you and Mr. Cohen stepped outside while I help Ryan get ready. I also need to take blood, and I need a urine sample. I don't know too many sixteen year old boys who want their parents watching all of this."  
  
"I can do it myself." Ryan said, to no one in particular, since no one was really listening to him.  
  
"Come on, Kirsten." Sandy said, gently removing her hands from the waistband of Ryan's suit, "We'll be right outside, Ryan."  
  
"Your parents are very interesting." Annie said after the Cohens left.  
  
"You have no idea." Ryan mumbled before saying, "Really, I can do it myself. I don't need help getting dressed or undressed."  
  
Annie just smiled at Ryan's stubborn need for independence. "Actually Ryan," she informed him, "You do need help. And you're going to continue to need help even after you get home. At least for a little while until the pain has subsided and you get used to the cast. It's going to be very awkward for you for a while, and you're going to need to let someone help you."  
  
"Come on," she continued as she held up the hospital gown, "First we'll slide this slowly, carefully over your right arm. There, like that." She continued to talk softly as she helped Ryan into the gown, "Okay. Now the left arm. There. Now lean forward so I can tie the back. Good."  
  
"Okay." She said, as she slipped her hands under the hospital gown and grabbed hold of Ryan's waistband, "Now we can just slip the suit off. Just raise your bottom up a little bit. Good. There. See? No harm, no foul." She quickly removed the suit and placed it at the foot of his bed.  
  
She smiled at Ryan as she continued her pre-op work up, as she called it. He watched as she wrapped a tight elastic band around his left arm and told him to make a fist, but looked away when she stuck the needle in his arm to draw blood.  
  
"Unclench your fist." Annie said after the needle was in his arm. But Ryan apparently didn't hear her as he kept his fist clenched. Actually, Annie noticed he had both fists clenched, his eyes shut tight and he was breathing very heavily. It had to have hurt a lot for Ryan to make a fist with his right hand.  
  
"Hey," Annie said as she rubbed his left arm, "What's up? Are you okay? Come on, Ryan, look at me."  
  
"Yeah." He said, finally relaxing his fists and opening his eyes. "Don't like needles."  
  
"I would say not." Annie said, "Are you sure that's it?" And when Ryan only nodded, she continued, "Okay, well, then why don't we head for the bathroom."  
  
"We?" Ryan asked, raising both eyebrows at her.  
  
"Yes, we." Annie informed him, "I told you Ryan, you're going to need help for a while. So, come on let's go."  
  
Ryan just looked at his nurse for a minute before snidely telling her, "I can pee in a cup by myself."  
  
Annie just shook her head. Stubborn teenage boys were not her favorite patients. "No you can't, but I can get your mother, if you'd rather. I'm sure she'd be able to help you." Annie told him.  
  
Ryan just rolled his eyes and sighed again. Yeah, that's just what he'd need, Kirsten helping him in the bathroom. At least the nurse he'd never have to see again. "Fine." He muttered as he got off the bed and headed for the bathroom, with Nurse Annie following right behind.  
  
After Ryan was back in bed and Annie had all her pre-op stuff done, Kirsten and Sandy came back in, followed by the anesthesiologist.  
  
"Good luck, Ryan." Annie said as she left. Ryan didn't answer her. He no longer thought she was all that cute.  
  
The anesthesiologist asked the basic questions; some of the same questions that they had been answering all day. But then he asked, "Have you ever had surgery before?"  
  
Ryan only nodded. He didn't want to remember it or think about it, and he definitely didn't want to talk about it, not in front of Kirsten and Sandy.  
  
"Any reaction to the anesthesia?" the doctor asked.  
  
Ryan could only shrug and then said, "I don't think so."  
  
"But you don't know for sure? What happened?" the doctor asked.  
  
Ryan opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again. He then looked down at the floor, and then at the blanket on his bed, the same blanket he was twisting in his hand. He really didn't want to talk about what happened, and was shocked when he heard Sandy say, "There was an accident. Ryan's spleen was ruptured and they had to remove it. After the surgery, they had a hard time waking Ryan up for a few days. But they said the coma was more injury related, and probably not due to anesthesia."  
  
The doctor nodded and made a note in his chart as he explained, "Since this surgery isn't as serious as a splenectomy, Ryan won't be sedated as heavily. Only mild sedation. But I noted his chart, and he will be closely monitored. I just need to start his IV, while you read and sign these papers, and then I believe we'll be all set."  
  
Ryan could only stare at Sandy. He had no idea that Sandy knew anything about what his prior life was like, but Sandy either didn't notice or pretended not to notice Ryan staring at him, as he read the consent forms and other medical information he was handed, and while the anesthesiologist began Ryan's IV.  
  
The prick of the needle into Ryan's hand made him jump. He flinched and tried to pull his hand back as Kirsten started to stroke the top of his head and softly whispered to him, "Almost done. Its okay. You're doing great...."  
  
Once the IV was done, the doctor injected something into it and said, "Ryan, I'm giving you something to help relax you. You should start to feel it shortly."  
  
They all watched as slowly Ryan began to slide down in the bed, close his eyes and smile.  
  
"Good stuff, huh?" the doctor asked, "Kind of gives you a nice mellow feeling, doesn't it."  
  
Ryan could only smile as he told them, "Yeah, good stuff. You got any to go? I got a brother at home who could use something mellow."  
  
"Sorry, buddy. All good stuff has to stay in house. Your brother would have to be a patient first." The doctor told him.  
  
"That's okay." Ryan laughed, "Surfer dude over there can take him out tomorrow, break his arm, and then maybe you guys can give us a two for one deal."  
  
"Thanks, Ryan." Sandy told him, "Appreciate it."  
  
"I'll see you upstairs in a little bit, Ryan." The doctor said as he left.  
  
Ryan only nodded as he slipped just a little further down in the bed and really started to relax.  
  
"Sandy," he said after a minute, "It wasn't an accident. My spleen. It wasn't an accident."  
  
"I know," Sandy told him, "I just didn't think we needed to tell the doctor the whole truth."  
  
Ryan looked at Sandy before telling him, "I didn't know you knew the whole truth. You never said anything."  
  
"Figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would." Sandy said.  
  
Ryan just shook his head slightly and closed his eyes. Sandy and Kirsten both watched as his breathing started to slow down, as he fell asleep. 


	5. Seth&Surgery

Watching Ryan sleep made Kirsten both concerned and curious.  
  
"Why wasn't it an accident?" she asked Sandy, "How did he lose his spleen?"  
  
"He was attacked." Sandy whispered, worried that their voices would wake Ryan up.  
  
"Someone attacked him, beat him with a blunt instrument." Sandy continued once he was sure Ryan was still asleep, and then he looked at Kirsten and told her, "In his own home."  
  
"Dawn?" Kirsten asked, suddenly sick at the idea that someone could do that, especially someone who was supposed to be his mother.  
  
Sandy shook his head before telling her, "They suspected Dawn's boyfriend. But they could never prove it. Everyone claimed an unknown assailant broke into the house and attacked Ryan. And when Ryan woke up a few days later, he agreed to the same story. So the case was closed."  
  
"When?" Kirsten asked. "Three years ago." Sandy told her. Now Kirsten really felt sick and angry. Ryan would have only been thirteen, beaten by a grown man and his own mother protecting that man.  
  
"How come I was never told about this?" she asked.  
  
"Kirsten," Sandy tried to explain as gently as possible, "You saw Ryan's reaction when he realized I knew. I don't think he could handle you and Seth knowing about his past. He'd never want you to feel sorry for him. If he wants to talk about it, he will. If not, then you have to respect his privacy and let it go. I know enough about the past abuse to answer whatever questions occasionally come up. Except, of course, how many other times he's broken his arm. That may have been a little helpful this morning."  
  
He had hoped to lighten the mood a little bit, by bringing the discussion back to the day's events. Not that what happened that day was funny, but it was an accident. Ryan's past wasn't an accident, and it definitely wasn't funny. Kirsten could only sigh as she sat down next to Ryan and began to brush his hair out of his face again.  
  
"I wouldn't feel sorry for him." She said, "I would. It's just. He really hasn't had it easy, has he?"  
  
Kirsten and Sandy both jumped when they heard, "You know he hates when someone does that." It shouldn't have been a surprise to see Seth standing in the doorway, but somehow it was.  
  
"Seth," Sandy asked, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"No, seriously, Mom," Seth continued, "He hates when people play with his hair. Do you know how long it takes him to achieve that shaggy look, that I just woke up and can't do a thing with my beautiful blond locks hairstyle of his? Hours, Mom, hours."  
  
"Seth," Sandy repeated, "Again, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Well, I woke up this morning to find a note, a note stating that Mom had to rush over to the hospital because Dad broke Ryan's arm. Of course, she promised to call, but no one called. And no one has his or her cell phone on. So I came here to see for myself." Seth explained to them.  
  
"Dad broke Ryan's arm!" Sandy repeated, staring at Kirsten, "You really left him a note saying Dad broke Ryan's arm?"  
  
"Well, that's what you said when you called." Kirsten said, "You said there was an accident and you broke Ryan's arm. So that's what I said in the note. You broke Ryan's arm."  
  
"Oh, man," they all heard Ryan moan, "Not this again."  
  
"Not what again?" Sandy asked as Kirsten told him, "We thought you were sleeping."  
  
"I was." Ryan told them, "Until you both decided to continue the Sandy broke Ryan's arm argument. No one could sleep through that."  
  
"We weren't arguing." Sandy told him.  
  
"Fine," Ryan said, "Discussing. Loudly."  
  
"Ryan," Kirsten explained, "We weren't discussing loudly either. We were just explaining to Seth what happened. That's all. Why don't you try to go back to sleep, we'll be quieter."  
  
"Seth?" Ryan asked, ignoring the rest of what Kirsten said and settling his eyes on Seth, "Hey, man, what are you doing here?"  
  
Seth couldn't help but smile at the goofy look on Ryan's face. He figured Ryan had to be flying pretty high, which was probably a good thing, given how gross Seth thought his arm looked.  
  
"Well, ya see, bro," Seth told him, "I heard there was some kind of accident in which Dad may or may not have been deeply involved. So I figured it would be in our best interest if I got over here and taught you the finer points of Jewish guilt."  
  
Ryan just looked at Seth for a minute, trying his best to understand what he was talking about, but all Ryan could say was, "Huh?"  
  
"Yeah, ok. I guess I didn't get here in time." Seth told him, "Try to follow me here, Ry. See, Dad took you surfing. Dad broke your arm. Dad feels real bad. Real, real bad. Dad wants to make it up to you. I'm here to help you help Dad make it up to you."  
  
"Seth..." Sandy started to warn, before Ryan said, "No really, Seth. It was an accident. No one has to make anything up to me. Not for an accident."  
  
"Ryan, Ryan, Ryan," Seth said, "You just don't get it. Of course Dad has to make it up to you. He broke your arm. Now you can't ride your bike. Now you can't work to save up all your hard earned cash. Now he must get you a car. I think possibly a convertible, since opening a car door would be too difficult for you. With a convertible all you will need to do is hop in. And naturally, as the good brother that I am, I will gladly offer my services chauffeuring you everywhere you need to go."  
  
"Seth, cut it out." Kirsten warned him. But Ryan just laughed. Only Seth would try to use a broken arm to get a car out of his parents, and it wasn't even Seth's arm that was broken.  
  
"What color convertible?" Ryan asked.  
  
"I don't know," Seth said, "Something bright and shiny. Maybe red or yellow."  
  
"Not yellow. Teresa's car is yellow. Something dark. Black or dark blue. A cool color. Not a girly color." Ryan told him.  
  
"Boys," Kirsten warned, "Knock it off. No one is getting a convertible."  
  
"So much for Jewish guilt." Ryan mumbled.  
  
"You forget, Ry. Mom's not Jewish. And she's not the one feeling guilty." Seth said then leaned in close and whispered, "Trust me, we just need to work on Dad."  
  
Ryan could only laugh again at Seth. He was actually almost enjoying himself, until the door opened and he heard a familiar, unfriendly voice say, "What's this I hear, Sanford, you broke the boy's arm?" Ryan looked up past Seth to see Caleb walking into the room. And despite the 'happy medicine' he was on, he quickly tensed up.  
  
"Dad, what are you doing here?" Kirsten asked.  
  
"Didn't Seth tell you?" Caleb asked, pointing over to Seth.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Seth explained, "Mom, Grandpa came by this morning looking for you. He drove me over here since you both took the cars and we don't have our own. Yet. But, I thought you were just going to drop me off and leave?"  
  
"No, I just needed to park the car." Caleb said, "Wanted to see for myself what happened. What'd the boy do, Sandman?"  
  
Ryan could only close his eyes and pretend to rest again. He hoped Caleb would take the hint and leave, quickly.  
  
"The boy." Sandy hissed, "Ryan, didn't do anything. There was a surfing accident. It was my fault."  
  
"And this is how you care for a boy in your charge?" Caleb said, "You break his arm? It's no wonder you and Kiki never had more then one child. I can see two kids are more then you can handle."  
  
"Dad..." Kirsten started to warn as she saw Sandy tense up.  
  
"Mr. Nichol, can you call Marissa for me?" Ryan asked. He didn't want to listen to another fight between Caleb and Sandy, especially since the fight would be about him.  
  
"Oh, I did already." Seth said, "But she and Summer are over at Ultra Spa for the day. So I left a message on her voice mail. You think you're in pain? They're going for bikini waxes. I mean, OW!"  
  
Ryan again laughed at how quickly Seth could change the subject to something so inane. And he was relieved that he didn't need to worry about Marissa now. He had forgotten she told him about the Spa; another reason he agreed to go surfing with Sandy.  
  
"So last summer the kid burns down my house," Caleb continued, "And this summer the Sandman breaks his arm. It'll be interesting to see what this family plans on next summer."  
  
"Caleb..." Sandy warned, but Kirsten cut him off, "Dad, look, they're going to be coming to take Ryan up to surgery soon. I'll call you later when we get home. We can meet tomorrow."  
  
"Nonsense." Caleb said, "I'm assuming we're going to be here a while. We can go over our business while we wait. It won't take long, then we can have lunch. How long did they say the surgery would take?"  
  
"A few hours, then Ryan has to go to recovery." Kirsten told him. They were all staring at Caleb, trying to figure out why he would want to wait at the hospital so no one noticed Ryan begin to shift uncomfortably in the bed until he finally snapped, "Can we not talk about the surgery?"  
  
Ryan continued staring up at the ceiling, even though he knew everyone was now staring at him. "I just," he tried to explain, "There's got to be something else to talk about."  
  
No one said anything for a moment, and Ryan really hated the silence. He knew it meant they were all feeling sorry for him.  
  
"You know," Seth finally said, "I've always wondered why girls willingly pay someone to put hot wax on their nether regions and then rip out the hair. It sounds medieval. I mean, seriously, Mom, why do girls do that?"  
  
"Seth!" Kirsten exclaimed, embarrassed by the question, "I don't really think that's appropriate. I'm sure you can think of something else to talk about."  
  
"Why?" Seth asked, "It's an honest question. I mean, Dad, would you put hot wax there?"  
  
Sandy just shook his head and said, "Ah, no." Normally he would have stopped Seth from going off on such an obscene tangent, but it was at least having the desired effect on Ryan, who was now smiling as he watched Seth discuss the torturous female beauty secrets.  
  
"How about you, dude?" Seth asked Ryan, "Would you put hot wax there?"  
  
Ryan could only laugh as he told Seth, "No, can't say that I would."  
  
"And neither would I." Seth said, "So enlighten us, Mom. Explain this whole concept to us."  
  
"Seth..." Kirsten started to warn, but before she could go any further, before the discussion could go any further, the door to Ryan's room opened and two orderlies pushing a gurney came in.  
  
Ryan's smile quickly faded as the one orderly asked, "Ryan Atwood?"  
  
Ryan could only nod as Sandy said, "Yes. Yes, he is."  
  
"Hey, Ryan. I'm Roger and this is Dion. We're here to take you on a little ride." the orderly began to explain, "We need to move Ryan so if you're not family, we need you to step outside." And when no one, not even Caleb moved, Roger then said, "Ok, if you're not the patient or the parents then you need to step outside."  
  
Ryan again could only nod as Seth said, "OK, man, I'll catch up to you before you go."  
  
Once Caleb and Seth left, the orderly then began to explain, "Ok, Ryan, just let us move you. Try not to move your arm at all. Let us do all the work. On the count of three, we're going to move you. Ready? One. Two. Three."  
  
Ryan tensed up as he was moved over to the gurney and watched as they brought over his IV bag. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, hoping to calm his nerves.  
  
"Ok, Mom or Dad," he heard the orderly Roger say, "One of you can accompany Ryan up to the operating room. The other one can bring the rest of the family to the waiting room. We'll show you where that is. If we're all set then let's go."  
  
No one said anything as the orderlies wheeled Ryan out of his room and headed for the operating room. And even though Ryan knew they were all there following behind the gurney, he didn't want to open his eyes. If he didn't look at any of them, they wouldn't see that he was scared.  
  
As they exited the elevator, Roger stopped and pointed, "Okay family, the waiting room is over there. That's where the doctor will come find you after to talk to you. Mom or Dad, who's coming with us?"  
  
"I am." Sandy said, quickly.  
  
"Fine." Roger said, "Mom, you and the rest of the family say goodbye here.  
  
Caleb was the first to say anything and all he said was, "Ryan," as he turned and walked towards the waiting room.  
  
"Kind of gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling when he does that!" Seth joked, "Ok, man, I'll see ya when you're done. Or when they're done. I'll see ya later."  
  
"Yeah." Ryan said, not really wanting to say anything else.  
  
Kirsten kissed him on his forehead and said, "Bye, sweetie," and then patted him on his shoulder.  
  
Kirsten and Seth watched as the orderlies pushed Ryan away, with Sandy following behind. They didn't head for the waiting room, not even after doors leading to the operating room closed.  
  
Ryan wasn't sure what to expect as they went in. Last time he was in surgery, he wasn't exactly awake to see what was happening. He didn't expect to end up in a room strangely similar to the emergency room.  
  
"This is the waiting area." Roger explained, "It should only be a few minutes before they're ready for you."  
  
As Dion handed Sandy a pair of scrubs, he told him, "Dad, you need to put these on."  
  
"You know, you don't have to stay." Ryan said as he watched Sandy start to slip into the green scrubs.  
  
"Why not?" Roger asked before Sandy could answer, "You're still a minor. Dad can stay." Then Dion leaned over and told him, "Trust me, Ryan, it makes them feel better if you let them stay."  
  
Ryan could only nod again as he closed his eyes. Sandy staying meant Sandy talking, and Ryan didn't want to talk, so he hoped by keeping his eyes closed, Sandy would take the hint and not talk. The silence lasted all of thirty seconds before Sandy said, "You know, Ryan, it's going to be okay."  
  
Ryan kept his eyes closed as he shrugged his shoulders. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't really want to think about it so he hoped Sandy would somehow just stop talking about it.  
  
"No, really Ryan," Sandy continued as Ryan just let out a loud sigh, "It's going to be fine. They'll fix your arm and put it in a cast, and in a few hours we'll be home. And we'll all be arguing over which one of Kirsten's specialties we should be ordering. On second thought, tonight you can decide. Chinese, Mexican, Seafood. Your choice tonight."  
  
"Yeah, okay." Ryan said quietly. He wanted to add, "whatever," but decided against it.  
  
"Ryan," Sandy continued, "I promise, nothing's going to happen."  
  
"Yeah, I'll love it." Ryan sarcastically added. And with that, Sandy finally stopped talking. Ryan waited for a very quiet minute before he opened his eyes and looked at Sandy. It was the first time Ryan noticed how nervous Sandy was as Ryan watched him drum his fingers against his knee and bounce his legs up and down.  
  
"Sorry. Couldn't resist." Ryan said, trying to smile.  
  
"I guess I shouldn't promise when I don't know for sure." Sandy told him, "But it is a pretty safe bet that nothing's going to go wrong."  
  
"Yeah, I guess." Ryan said, turning his head away from Sandy and staring back up at the ceiling.  
  
"It's not the same this time, Ryan." Sandy promised, "It's not that serious. I mean, not that you breaking your arm, or I should say me breaking your arm isn't serious, but its not as serious. It's different this time."  
  
As Ryan continued staring at the ceiling, he finally admitted, "I just remember trying to wake up, wanting to wake up and just not being able to. And then when I finally did wake up, wishing I hadn't. It's just. No one ever told me why I couldn't wake up, and I don't remember enough about it to figure it out. It could have been the anesthesia. I don't know."  
  
"Or it could have been your injuries, which were substantial." Sandy added.  
  
"You know, it's not right that they told you, and no one said anything to me about you knowing." Ryan told him.  
  
"I guess they figured I had the right to know, part of my job." Sandy said.  
  
Ryan looked at him before asking, "What, as my lawyer?"  
  
"No. Parent." Sandy told him, as Roger and Dion came back over to the gurney.  
  
"Your turn, Ryan." Dion said as he and Roger began to push the gurney towards the operating room. "Dad," Dion continued, "You can either say goodbye here or come into the operating room for a minute."  
  
"Coming." was all Sandy could say, since he suddenly had a lump in his throat.  
  
Sandy followed behind as they entered the operating room, and he suddenly began to worry at how cold it was in there, that Ryan would be cold. He wanted to make sure Ryan was covered with a blanket, that he wasn't shivering, but the nurse stopped him before he could move up next to the gurney.  
  
"Sir, you need to wait here for a minute, until they finished moving your son." She told him.  
  
"Ok, Ryan, same game plan as last time." He heard Roger say, "Let Dion and I move you over to the operating table. On the count of three. Ready. One. Two. Three."  
  
Sandy watched as the orderlies quickly slid Ryan over onto the operating table, taking great care of his right arm, and then told him, "Good luck, man. We'll be seeing you." Sandy could only thank them as they left, as now the nurses converged on Ryan, hooking him up to various monitors, covering his lower body with a blanket, and basically preparing Ryan for surgery. And Sandy watched as Ryan closed his eyes and began to breath heavily. It was obvious to Sandy as he approached Ryan that he was still scared, and there was nothing Sandy could do to help him. All he could think to do was grab Ryan's shoulder and give it a light squeeze.  
  
Sandy didn't notice the anesthesiologist or the surgeon walk in until he heard the anesthesiologist say, "Mr. Cohen, you need to say goodbye now. We're just about ready to start."  
  
"Okay." Sandy said as he nodded. It was only then that Ryan opened his eyes and looked at Sandy. "Don't worry, Ryan. I'll see you soon. Okay, kid?"  
  
Ryan could only nod as the anesthesiologist slipped an oxygen mask over Ryan's face and told him, "Okay, this may sting a little as I inject it into your IV, but you will start to relax almost immediately."  
  
Sandy watched as Ryan winced for a split second. "Count backwards from 100, Ryan," he heard the doctor say, and Sandy listened as Ryan said, "100, 99, 98, 9........"  
  
"Mr. Cohen," Dr. Gross said, "You need to leave now. The nurse will show you out. I'll meet you in the waiting room in a few hours."  
  
"I'll see you soon, kid." Sandy whispered as he walked out of the operating room. 


	6. Waiting

Sandy let out a loud sigh as he walked out of the operating room. Well, he didn't exactly walk out of the operating room, more like he was shoved out. He wanted to turn one last time, just to make sure Ryan was okay, but the nurse was pretty persistent in pushing him out. As he left, he tried not to remember the look of fear in Ryan's eyes as he said goodbye, as the doctor put Ryan to sleep again. It was one of the few times Sandy could remember Ryan truly looking like a young kid, and there was nothing Sandy could do to help that kid, his kid.  
  
As he walked through the doors to go wait in the waiting room, Sandy couldn't stop thinking about Ryan, and he walked right past Kirsten and Seth. He jumped when he heard Kirsten say, "Sandy." Surprised to see them standing outside the door, he said, "I was just coming to meet you in the waiting room. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Waiting for you." Kirsten told him, "What took so long? Is everything okay? We were getting worried."  
  
"Yeah, no, everything's fine, I guess." Sandy said, "There was a short wait before he went in. But he's in there. They're operating now. I got to go in with him, to be there when they put him to sleep."  
  
"And? How is he? I mean, how was he before.... when he went in?" Kirsten asked.  
  
Sandy turned and looked at the doors that led to the operating room and then looked briefly at his wife and his son before looking down at his feet. Kirsten could only put her arm on his shoulder, as Seth stood by and for once, was silent. They both knew Sandy was worried, in addition to feeling guilty, and yet Kirsten knew there was something a little more. Something was on Sandy's mind, that obviously something had transpired between him and Ryan while the two of them were together waiting.  
  
"He is okay, isn't he?" Kirsten asked. Sandy nodded as he closed his eyes and let out a loud sigh again. He could still see Ryan lying on that operating table, trying to calm himself down, trying to shut everything out around him, as Sandy stood by helplessly.  
  
"He's.. He's afraid he isn't going to wake up again." Sandy finally blurted out. He knew he was breaking Ryan's confidence by telling them, and yet he couldn't stop himself, "and there was nothing I could do, nothing I could say to help him. All I did was promise him that nothing was going to happen. But he didn't believe me. Why should he? I promised him the same thing this morning, and of course something did happen, otherwise we wouldn't be here. He wouldn't be here."  
  
"Wait," Seth spoke up, "Why would he be afraid of not waking up? I mean, it's just a broken arm. Or is there something else? Something you haven't told me?"  
  
"But you told him, right?" Kirsten asked Sandy, ignoring Seth's questions, "You told him it was different this time, didn't you?"  
  
Sandy nodded and sighed again as Seth raised his voice and said, "What is different? What is going on? And what is wrong with Ryan that he might not wake up?"  
  
It was the panic in Seth's voice that made Sandy and Kirsten both realize that he didn't know. He wasn't there when they met with the anesthesiologist, so only hearing a portion of the conversation was scaring Seth, badly.  
  
"Oh, honey." Kirsten explained, "There's nothing wrong with Ryan, besides his broken arm. It's just something from his past. Something he'd prefer not talking about, something we would really appreciate if you didn't bring up to him. He's going to be fine. I promise, nothing is going to happen."  
  
"Yeah, he's going to love it." Sandy mumbled, but as Kirsten and Seth looked at him strangely, Sandy continued, "Never mind. I guess you could call it an inside joke between Ryan and me. We should probably head for the waiting room. We can't really stand here for the two hours."  
  
"I thought maybe we should go down and get some lunch." Kirsten told him, "Eat now while it's still early and that way we'll be back long before the surgery is over."  
  
Sandy shook his head and said, "No. You go. I'm going to wait here. I promised him that I'd see him when he woke up, so it's better if I wait here."  
  
Kirsten could only stare at Sandy for a minute. She knew he wasn't thinking rationally, but she also knew it would be better not to argue with him at that moment. He wanted to wait there, be as close to Ryan as he could be, so they'd wait, together.  
  
"Seth," she said, "Why don't you go down and get all of us something to eat and bring it back up. And bring your grandfather to help you."  
  
Seth only nodded and took the money Kirsten had pulled out of her wallet. He knew all about their alone time, that they both liked to be alone together a lot. His dad felt bad, and his mom wanted to help him feel better, and she wanted to do it without him and definitely without his grandfather there. He started to leave, but slowed up when he heard his mom ask, "What else did you promise him?"  
  
When she didn't get an immediate response from Sandy and only a confused look, Kirsten clarified, "Well, you promised him nothing was going to happen, twice. And you promised him that you would see him as soon as he woke up. I was just wondering what else you promised him."  
  
Sandy thought about it for a minute, thought back to their conversations, "I promised he could pick what we ordered for dinner tonight." He said.  
  
"But what about the car? Did you promise him the car?" Seth turned and asked.  
  
"Seth," Kirsten warned, "Lunch. Go. Now." And as Seth turned and started to walk away, Kirsten whispered, "You didn't promise him a car, did you?"  
  
"No." Sandy told her, but then thought about it for a brief second before telling her, "But you know, it might not be such a bad idea."  
  
Seth could only give a silent "yes!" as he rushed to get his grandfather and hurry up with lunch. He had to get back before his mother talked his father out of the car.  
  
Kirsten again could only stare at Sandy for a moment before she muttered, "You've got to be kidding me. You're going to get Ryan a car? Because of this? Because of an accident?"  
  
"Not just Ryan," Sandy told her, "Seth, too."  
  
"Two cars?" Kirsten asked as she shook her head and walked towards the waiting room. For this, she needed to sit down.  
  
"Just think about, Kirsten," Sandy said as he followed behind her, "If we only got one car, then Ryan would always think of it as Seth's car. He wouldn't use it as his own. But if each kid gets a car, then it wouldn't make Ryan feel so weird."  
  
"You don't think buying Ryan a car would make him feel weird?" Kirsten responded, "Sandy, I still have to sneak new clothes into his closet, otherwise he tells me he doesn't need them. You just can't say gee Ryan, sorry I broke your arm, here, have a new car. He'd never accept it. He'd know you just did it because you felt guilty."  
  
"It's not because I feel guilty." Sandy shot back at her, "I just feel the boys could use a car. I mean, Ryan can't exactly ride around Newport on his bicycle, not with a broken arm. He needs to be able to get around town somehow."  
  
Kirsten just laughed for a minute, not that she found what Sandy was saying particularly funny, more like unbelievable. "Sandy," she finally said, "I agree that he can't ride his bicycle this summer. But he also can't drive, not with his right arm in a cast from his fingertips to above his elbow. That's not safe, either. So what, you buy him a new car, out of guilt and then make him stare at it for the next two and a half months. Yeah, that will make him feel better."  
  
"I told you it's not out of guilt." Sandy told her, "I'm being practical. I plan on taking some time off from work to help Ryan, but eventually, I will need to go back. We'll both have to work, and unless we plan on carpooling with each other, there will be no car home for the boys. If something happens, if Seth needs to take Ryan somewhere, how is he going to get him there? On his skateboard?"  
  
They were in the waiting room now so Kirsten could sit and think about what to say before answering Sandy. "You always said that you didn't want Seth to be another Newport brat, a spoiled rich kid who has always had things handed to him, waiting around for his new BMW. You didn't want to raise a Jimmy Cooper or a Hailey." She said slowly.  
  
"And he's not." Sandy responded, "This isn't like that. This is different."  
  
"The only difference," Kirsten told him, "is now we have two kids that you want to hand new cars to, not just the one. And you want to do it because of an accident. A stupid accident."  
  
"It wasn't just a stupid accident." Sandy snapped, before taking a deep breath and continuing, "It was an accident that I caused. I'm the reason we're here today. The reason he's in surgery, scared to death that he won't wake up from the anesthesia. I'm the reason his whole summer is ruined. For the rest of his life he will have three screws and a medal plate in his right arm because of me."  
  
"And you think buying him a car will make up for that?" Kirsten asked. "Sandy, think about it. You can't buy Ryan's forgiveness with a new car. First of all, I doubt Ryan is even mad at you. He knows that you would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, and I heard him say that it was just an accident. He even tried to take the blame for it himself. And second, if you try to force a gift of that size on Ryan, you will only make it worse. We both know he still isn't completely comfortable with us. I mean, I know he loves us, and I believe he knows we love him, but he isn't Seth. He isn't going to see getting a car as a gift. And I think that is what will make him mad at you. Not the accident, but your attempts to buy his forgiveness with material possessions."  
  
"I'm not trying to buy his forgiveness, or his love." Sandy told her, "I told you, I'm being practical. We need another car at home for when we're both at work."  
  
Kirsten had hoped that Sandy would see the truth behind his sudden desire to give the boys a new means of transportation so she very gently tried to tell him, "Okay. Practical. You want to go about this from a practical standpoint. Then practically speaking, with you taking some time off from work to help Ryan, there will be a car home. If one of the boys, either Seth or Ryan, or both, need to go somewhere, your car will be there. Then after you go back to work, I plan to take some time off, work from home, so my car will be there. After that, when we both have to be at work, if you still feel that the boys should have a car, then we'll talk about getting another car. One car, though, not two cars. We don't need two cars. They can share. And we will all discuss it first. All four of us, including Ryan will sit down and discuss it. Will you at least promise me that much?"  
  
Sandy could only nod. He still thought there had to be some way to make it up to Ryan, to help make his life a little easier while he recovered from the broken arm.  
  
"Do you think he'll ever tell us about the other times?" Kirsten said, changing the subject, "The other so-called accidents he's had."  
  
"Doubt it." Sandy told her, "They weren't in his file which means they weren't investigated. So unless he suddenly gets the urge to talk, we may never know what happened."  
  
"Three other times," Kirsten wondered out loud, "How could he break his right arm three other times? What could she have done to him? It sometimes scares me to think of what his life was like before last August."  
  
"Then don't." Sandy simply told her, "He'd rather you not think about what his life was like. It's easier for him that way. I think just as long as he knows he's loved, well taken care of and safe then its ok that we don't know any more."  
  
"That's right," Kirsten agreed, "Just as long as he knows he's safe and loved, what more does he need?"  
  
Kirsten waited a minute for Sandy to realize what she was getting at, that she was using his own words against him before asking him, "So, do you still want to buy him a car?"  
  
"No, I guess not." Sandy finally said.  
  
"No, No, No" they both heard from behind them as Seth walked back into the waiting room, "Mom, what are you doing? I knew we shouldn't have waited for the hot lunch. I knew we should have just grabbed some sandwiches and run back up here. But no, I take the time and the love to wait on nice, hot lunches for my parents, and now all my hopes and dreams of a fire red mustang convertible have been dashed by my Gentile Mother. There's no justice in this world, thanks to you, Mom."  
  
"Seth," Kirsten said, "You would really want your father to get you a car because of this accident, because he feels bad about Ryan getting hurt? Do you really think that's fair?"  
  
Seth pretended to think about it for a minute, and as he handed his mother her lunch, he simply said, "Yes."  
  
"Seth..." Kirsten started to warn as Sandy told him, "We haven't totally ruled out getting another car. Just not right now, maybe in a month. It's a subject we'll revisit after your mother and I both go back to work."  
  
"Go back to work?" Seth asked, "Since when are you guys on vacation?"  
  
"You're on vacation, Kiki?" Caleb asked as he walked into the waiting room, "Were you planning on telling me, or was I just supposed to guess?"  
  
"I'm not on vacation, Dad. Not yet." Kirsten informed him, "Sandy is going to take some time off first, and then when he has to go back, I'll work from home for a while. We're still working out the details, but I'll let you know."  
  
"And this is all because of the boy?" Caleb asked, as he sat down to eat his lunch, "How much help do you think he needs?"  
  
"We don't know how much help the boy will need, Cal." Sandy snidely told him, "Not until he gets home and we see. I plan on taking at least the next week off. If I can rearrange my schedule, then I'll take two weeks off."  
  
"Then after that," Kirsten continued, "I'll take some vacation time and do some work at home for a week or two."  
  
"So between the two of you, you plan on taking any where from two weeks to a month off to help Ryan do what?" Caleb asked.  
  
"Whatever he needs." Kirsten told him.  
  
Caleb couldn't help but chuckle. "Kiki," he said, "The boy is sixteen years old. He won't need your help for a month. Ok, granted it may be a little difficult for the first few days, thanks to the foster father of the year here, but after that, he'll adjust. You can't smoother the boy."  
  
"Um, Mom, Dad." Seth said, "I hate to admit it, but Grandpa may actually be right here. You're going to weird Ryan out if you sit at home staring at him, waiting on his every need. I really can't see Ryan letting you help him get dressed or eat or anything like that. That's just not Ryan. He's not going to like it."  
  
"No, he's not going to like it." Sandy agreed before telling them all, "But he is going to have to accept it. For a little while, at least. He won't be able to do a lot of things on his own. And we can only wait and see how long it is before he does adjust, and until that time then yes, Kirsten or I can sit around the house staring at him and waiting on his every need."  
  
"This should be good." Seth said, "Watching you help Ryan get dressed. He's going to love that."  
  
"That reminds me, Seth," Kirsten told him, "You need to run home and get something for Ryan to wear home. Grab his sweatpants and a pair of boxers. Don't bother with a shirt. That may be too difficult for him to put on. And swing by the emergency room on your way out and get his bathing suit and sandals. We left them down there. You can just throw his suit in the hamper at home, but bring his sandals back so he can wear them home."  
  
"Why me?" Seth whined, "What happens if they finish up with the surgery, and I'm not here?"  
  
"You still have time before the surgery is finished, and after that, Ryan will have to go to recovery. Only your father and I will be allowed in recovery to see him. So, go. Take my car, it's in the parking lot." Kirsten told him as she pulled the keys out of her purse.  
  
"It would be better if I was taking my car." Seth mumbled, causing Caleb to ask, "What car? Since when did you get Seth a car?"  
  
"We didn't." Kirsten told him, "Sandy is just toying with the idea of getting another car for the boys to use."  
  
"Well, it's about time" Caleb said, "How long do you expect Seth to ride on his skateboard? He needs his own car."  
  
"Both boys would share the car, Cal." Sandy told him, before Kirsten added, "If we even get another car. I still don't agree with the idea of two teenage boys getting a brand new car."  
  
Caleb shrugged and said, "Then don't get them a new car." And as Seth just moaned and mumbled, "Thanks, Grandpa," Caleb continued, "What I mean is, give them your car, Kiki. It's not brand new, but it's still in good shape. And then take one of the company cars that the Newport Group has for its executives. I never understood why you would use your own vehicle to go to construction sites and meet with contractors, when I could use the tax write off if you used a company car."  
  
"I hate to say it," Sandy admitted, "But your father might be right, Kirsten. And believe me, it does pain me to say that, but Ryan already feels comfortable driving the Range Rover, so he won't get upset thinking we spent money on a new car."  
  
"Well," Kirsten considered, "I guess it could solve the problem. And if it doesn't work out, I can always bring the car back and use the Range Rover again. Okay. We can try that. So, you see, Seth, you are taking your car to run home and get Ryan's clothes. Problem solved."  
  
"It's still not a shiny red mustang convertible..." Seth mumbled as he walked out of the waiting room, staring at the keys to his so-called new car.  
  
"Sandy," Kirsten said, "Why don't we eat lunch? We still have about an hour until the doctor is done, and you need to eat something."  
  
Sandy could only smile slightly at his wife as he finally sat down to eat. Okay, he thought, one problem solved. Ryan now had a way to get around town, as long as Seth was willing to drive him for the summer. And now all he could do was wait until the bigger problem was solved, namely, the surgery being over and the doctor telling them Ryan was fine. For that, Sandy noted as he looked at his watch, all he needed to do was wait fifty- two more minutes.  
  
Unfortunately, fifty-two minutes went by, lunch was finished and there was no sign of the doctor. An hour later, Seth was back, Sandy was pacing and there still was no sign of the doctor. After an hour and a half, Sandy had walked to and from the doors leading to the operating room five times, frantic that something had gone wrong. An hour and forty-five minutes later, as Sandy was getting ready to storm into the operating room to see for himself, Dr. Gross finally came to see them.  
  
"What happened? What went wrong? What took so long?" Sandy frantically asked him.  
  
"Mr. Cohen," Dr. Gross said, "Relax. I said it would take approximately two hours, and it did."  
  
"It was almost three hours." Seth corrected before the doctor could continue, causing the doctor to give him a look.  
  
"How's Ryan?" Kirsten asked.  
  
"Ryan is fine." Dr. Gross told them, "We repaired the damage to his arm, and he's been moved to recovery. The nurse will be out shortly to bring you in to see him. He's still pretty out of it, so I would prefer if only one of you goes in at a time, and only the parents. Siblings and grandparents will have to wait until Ryan's been moved to his room."  
  
"But he's awake? He's okay?" Sandy asked.  
  
"I'd say it's more like he's conscious, not really awake. He is able to respond to simple commands with some moans and one-word answers. And besides having his arm in a full cast and placed in a sling, I'd say he was okay." Dr. Gross told them.  
  
"Moans and one word answers?" Seth joked, "Sounds like Ryan's awake to me!"  
  
The doctor again could only give Seth a look before excusing himself to see other patients. He promised to see the Cohens before Ryan was discharged to go over the necessary care and follow up treatment with them, and then he left.  
  
Right after that, Caleb kissed Kirsten on the cheek and told her, "I guess I should go. Julie must be wondering what happened to me right about now."  
  
"Oh, Dad," Kirsten reminded him, "We never did get a chance to go over those business concerns of yours."  
  
"Don't worry about it, Kiki. As long as you're in the office on Monday, we can go over it then." Caleb said as he was leaving, "Seth, see you soon. Sanford, try not to hurt anyone on your way home."  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Cohen?" a nurse came out and asked, "Ryan is asking for you. Only one parent at a time, though so you'll have to decide who goes first."  
  
Sandy hesitated for a second as he looked at Kirsten. She only smiled at him as she told him, "Go. Go see for yourself that he's awake and that he's fine. But don't take too long. I want to see for myself, too."  
  
This time when Sandy let out a sigh, it was from relief, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He smiled at his wife and his son as he turned and followed the nurse to Recovery and Ryan. 


	7. Recovery Room

Sandy wasn't sure what he expected when he walked into the recovery room. It looked remarkably similar to the waiting area outside the operating room, so he half expected to see Ryan sitting up in the bed, just like he was before the surgery. If he had thought about it, he would have known better, and he would have been better prepared for what he did see.  
  
The nurse led him over to a bed containing a very still, very young looking child, and it took Sandy a second to comprehend it was Ryan. He was lying so still and was so pale that Sandy couldn't help but notice, he looked like he was dead. Had it not been for all the machines and monitors attached to Ryan that were continuously beeping, Sandy thought he could very well pass for dead, and the very thought made Sandy shutter.  
  
The nurse moved a chair over next to Ryan's bed and told Sandy, "It's okay. You can talk to him. He's still pretty out of it, but he can hear you."  
  
"How long will he be like this?" Sandy asked, with such a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
The nurse smiled as she explained to Sandy, "As the effects of the anesthesia wear off, he'll wake up more and more. He'll still be pretty groggy for the rest of the day, but he will be able to stay awake longer after about an hour. Don't worry, Mr. Cohen, your son is fine. See, watch this. Ryan?" The nurse said as she gently touched his left shoulder, "Come on, Ryan. Talk to me."  
  
"Mmm. Please. Just get them." Ryan whispered.  
  
"Get who, kiddo?" Sandy asked.  
  
At the sound of Sandy's voice, Ryan finally opened his eyes a little bit and then smiled just a little before saying, "you."  
  
"Yeah, well. You got me." Sandy told him, "How you doing?"  
  
"Made it." Ryan whispered as he closed his eyes again. Sandy just said, "Yeah. You made it," as he brushed the hair off Ryan's face, and then he notice Ryan grimace.  
  
"What's wrong?" Sandy asked. It was a stupid question, but Ryan didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Can't move my arm." Ryan moaned.  
  
Sandy let out a small chuckle as he told Ryan, "That's because it's in a sling and a cast. They don't really want you moving it."  
  
"That sucks." Ryan told him. And with that, Sandy laughed.  
  
"Not funny." Ryan whispered. "It hurts. And I can't move it."  
  
"I know." Sandy told him, "And I'm sorry. They'll probably be able to give you something for the pain in a little while, after you wake up some more."  
  
"Stop being sorry." Ryan groaned, "It was an accident. You can't keep saying sorry."  
  
Sandy didn't have an answer for Ryan; he almost said "sorry" again. Sandy knew the effects of the anesthesia made it damn near impossible for Ryan to know what he was saying, to be able to stop himself from being honest, without his 'no one can hurt me tough guy' exterior. He knew Ryan telling him to stop being sorry was honestly how Ryan felt. So instead of telling him sorry again, Sandy decided it would be best to just change the subject. He'd still continue to be sorry for Ryan's arm, but Ryan didn't need to hear it.  
  
"So, what do you want for dinner?" Sandy asked.  
  
"Don't really care. Haven't really had much of a chance to think about it." Ryan whispered.  
  
"Well, Seth has had most of the afternoon to think about it, so you better decide fast before he orders Chinese so he can make fun of your chop stick ability." Sandy joked.  
  
"At least I now have an excuse not to be able to use those stupid things." Ryan told him.  
  
Sandy laughed and then said, "How about some seafood? That's pretty easy to eat."  
  
"Can't use the shrimp fork." Ryan shot back.  
  
"I think this time Kirsten will let that go. We'll get some shrimp, some crab and a few lobsters. That way we can all eat with our hands, like animals. How's that sound?" Sandy asked, but when he didn't get an immediate answer from Ryan, he looked down at him. Ryan was breathing a little heavy and starting to sweat a little.  
  
"Ryan? Ryan, are you okay?" he asked, quickly starting to panic.  
  
"Just." Ryan sighed, "Stop talking about food. Not feeling too good. No more food talk."  
  
"Sure, kid," Sandy told him, "why don't you try to go back to sleep? I've probably kept you awake longer then I should have."  
  
Ryan didn't answer. He only nodded his head slightly. Sandy waited for a little bit, until he thought Ryan had fallen back asleep before he stood up and kissed the top of his head lightly as he turned to leave.  
  
"Where you going?" Ryan asked, and Sandy couldn't help but notice the sound of panic in his voice.  
  
"My time's up." Sandy told him, "I've got to go so Kirsten can come in."  
  
Ryan opened his eyes and looked at him, clearly confused, "Kirsten's here?"  
  
"Where else would she be?" Sandy asked.  
  
Ryan closed his eyes again before he told Sandy, "I don't know. Home. Work. Just didn't think she was still here."  
  
"Waiting outside. I'd say patiently waiting, but I somehow doubt it." Sandy told him. It was sad that after all this time, Ryan would still wonder if Kirsten was there for him  
  
Damn, Sandy thought, was Dawn ever there for him? But he just told Ryan, "Only one parent at a time. And I won the coin toss. But unless I want to end up a patient in the bed right next to you, I better go let her come in."  
  
"You'll be back though?" Ryan asked. Again it hurt that Ryan would even think he had to ask.  
  
"Yeah. Just as soon as she lets me. Go back to sleep." Sandy told him.  
  
Sandy walked quickly out of Recovery. He wanted to get to Kirsten so she could get in there just as fast, and Ryan wouldn't be alone for too long.  
  
"Hey, how is he?" Kirsten pounced just as soon as she saw Sandy.  
  
"He's..." Sandy had to think for a second, trying to figure out how Ryan was, "I don't know how to put it. I guess you'll see for yourself, but hurry up. He doesn't want to be alone."  
  
"Ryan?" Seth joked, "Ryan doesn't want to be alone? Are you sure it was Ryan you were talking to?"  
  
"Seth, knock it off." Sandy warned him, "He just woke up from surgery. His arm is sore, and he's not feeling well. He doesn't need your jokes."  
  
"Dad," Seth pointed out, "Ryan's not even here."  
  
"Then I don't need your jokes." Sandy snapped.  
  
"Sandy." Kirsten said quietly, and that was enough as Sandy just let out a sigh and said, "I'm sorry. I guess this has all been a little harder then I thought, especially seeing him so out of it and in pain. This really isn't the way I thought we'd be spending this Saturday."  
  
"No problem, Dad," Seth told him, "I promise no more jokes about Ryan's arm."  
  
"So I can go be with Ryan without worrying about the two of you out here alone?" Kirsten asked.  
  
"Go," Sandy told her as he nodded his head towards Recovery, "You need to get in there. You're leaving him alone for too long."  
  
As Kirsten turned to head towards Recovery, she heard Seth ask, "So really, Dad, how is he?"  
  
"He's...." Sandy again tried to explain, "I don't know. It's hard to explain. Out of it, I guess. Not himself."  
  
Kirsten could hear the sarcasm in his voice as Seth joked, "Yeah, thanks, Dad. That helps a lot. I get such a clear picture of him in my head. You must really Wow them in court with such tremendous speaking skills."  
  
"I thought you said no more joking." Sandy answered, and Kirsten could hear Seth laugh as he told his father, "No more joking at Ryan's expense, but you're still an easy target!"  
  
"Aw, thanks, son." Sandy joked back, "Hey, how about letting me see those car keys of yours?"  
  
"Oh, snap, Dad." Seth snorted, "You've wounded me."  
  
Kirsten could only chuckle as she walked further away from their bantering until she couldn't hear them any more. As she entered Recovery, she couldn't help but notice how quiet it was compared to Sandy and Seth in the waiting room. There was no sound except for the beeping of machines and quiet whispers of the nurses. She nodded politely at the nurses as she walked over to the only occupied bed in Recovery and sat down in the chair.  
  
"Hey, sweetie." Kirsten whispered as softly touched Ryan's cheek. When Ryan didn't respond, she immediately looked up at the monitor screen next to his bed. She knew from her mother's illness that the hospital always monitored an unconscious patient, watching the heart rate, pulse, blood pressure, so Kirsten knew to look at the screen. It was the same screen she watched as her mother slowly slipped away, as her heart rate slowed until it finally stopped. Kirsten's gaze quickly became fixed on that screen, staring at Ryan's heartbeat so intently that she didn't notice the nurse walk up behind her.  
  
She jumped when a sweet voice behind her said, "He just fell back asleep, but he's doing just fine. I think your husband may have worn him out a little. But don't worry, Ryan should wake up on his own in a little bit. If not, you can wake him up."  
  
"No," Kirsten told her, "Let him sleep. I can always talk to him later."  
  
Although Kirsten really wanted Ryan to be awake, she thought she was being polite by letting him sleep. But the nurse told her, "Mrs. Cohen, the more awake and alert Ryan becomes, the sooner he can be moved out of Recovery and into his own room. Only let him sleep for a little while, then gently wake him up. I can do it if you'd like, but I think he would like it better coming from his mother."  
  
His mother, Kirsten thought as she looked down at Ryan's face, remembering Dawn's words from last August, "At least this way he gets a real mom."  
  
Kirsten smiled at the young nurse as she told her, "Thanks, I will."  
  
As Kirsten continued to stare at Ryan while he slept, she couldn't help but wonder why anyone would intentionally want to hurt him. She knew what happened was killing Sandy even though it was just a stupid accident, and she had to admit to herself that she was feeling a little guilty, too. She knew Ryan hadn't wanted to go surfing, and if she had just put her foot down and told Sandy to drop the subject, then they wouldn't be here. So she just couldn't understand why a person, especially a mother, would choose to hurt him.  
  
It was when she reached down and started brushing his hair off his face that Kirsten noticed Ryan was sweating. Then he suddenly began to breath a little heavy and swallow a lot.  
  
"Ryan?" she asked, "Ryan, honey, wake up. What's wrong?" She knew she sounded panicked, because she was.  
  
"Don't feel good." Ryan moaned.  
  
Kirsten turned and called, "Nurse!" before looking back at Ryan, "What doesn't feel good, Ryan? Your arm? Is it your arm?"  
  
"No. Stomach." Ryan again moaned.  
  
"He says there's something wrong with his stomach," Kirsten frantically told the nurse. "What's wrong with his stomach?"  
  
The nurse just smiled at Kirsten as she pushed passed her and asked, "do you feel nauseous Ryan?"  
  
Ryan could only groan, "yes."  
  
"Ok, let's sit you up," the nurse told him as she began to raise up the bed. "Mrs. Cohen, could you please get that pink bowl over there?"  
  
"What's wrong?" Kirsten demanded as she quickly returned with the bowl.  
  
"It's just a reaction to the anesthesia, Mrs. Cohen. It's nothing serious, I promise." The nurse told her.  
  
"Gonna be sick." Ryan moaned.  
  
Kirsten moved quickly to place the bowl by Ryan's chest as he leaned over and began to vomit. She held the bowl in one hand as she gently rubbed his back with her other as Ryan continued to vomit up yellow bile with such force that Kirsten was worried he was going to hurt himself. Kirsten hadn't even noticed that the nurse had left, until she reappeared by Ryan's other side with a needle. She quickly pulled back the covers and swabbed Ryan's upper thigh with an alcohol wipe.  
  
"This is Compazine, Ryan," she explained as injected the needle into his thigh, "It will help you feel better soon."  
  
Ryan could only let out a moan as he continued to dry heave. Finally, after a very long minute or two, Ryan stopped and fell back on the bed, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.  
  
Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked over at Kirsten. Then he looked down at the bowl she still held in front of him. When he noticed that not only had he just thrown up in front of her but on her as well, he quickly tried to grab the bowl from her. Unfortunately, he instinctively tried to grab it with his right hand, and yelped at the pain that shot up his arm.  
  
"Hey, are you okay?" Kirsten asked as she put the bowl down and accepted the wet cloth the nurse had handed her. Kirsten quickly wiped off Ryan's forehead and then his cheeks before wiping off his mouth. Finally, she wiped off her hand as she placed the rag down next to the bowl.  
  
"I'm sorry. So sorry." Ryan tried to tell her in a raspy voice and then moaned, "Oh, God," as he quickly sat up again. He tried to grab the bowl that Kirsten had placed back under him, but wasn't able to as he quickly began to heave again.  
  
"Get. Sandy." Ryan breathed out in between the heaving, and when Kirsten didn't immediately say or do anything, he again said, "Get Sandy!" as the dry heaves slowly began to subside again.  
  
"Shhh. Okay, don't worry." Kirsten quietly told him before turning to the nursing and saying, "Can you go get my husband?"  
  
"Um, the doctor said only one parent in at a time," the young nurse tried to explain.  
  
"Only while he was still out of it, Ryan's not out of it anymore. He's sick, and he wants his father, so please go get my husband!" Kirsten barked at the nurse.  
  
Ryan only lifted his eyes to look at Kirsten since he was still a little afraid to lift his head up away from that bowl. He could tell by the look in her face and the tone of her voice that she was also upset at the fact he had just thrown up on her. He quickly figured that was why she would lie about his relationship to Sandy. He closed his eyes and continued to keep his head down as he heard another nurse say, "I'll go get him."  
  
The room got quiet again as Ryan concentrated on breathing, praying the sick feeling in his stomach would pass without the need to throw up again, and as Kirsten continued to rub his back in small circles slowly with one hand and hold his throw up bowl with her other. And the young nurse was no longer anxious to talk to Kirsten for fear she would bite her head off again for simply trying to do her job. So no one said anything until Sandy came running into Recovery.  
  
"What's wrong? What's going on?" he demanded as he stopped short next to Ryan's bed.  
  
Ryan took a number of deep breaths before laying back in bed. Before he could get a chance to say anything, he heard Kirsten say, "Ryan got a little sick. I think it may have scared him. The nurse gave him a shot of Compazine so I think he's okay now."  
  
"Kirsten needs to go." Ryan whispered, looking only at Sandy and not Kirsten. When he saw Sandy look up at Kirsten and then back at him, he continued, "She needs to go. Wash her hands. I threw up on her. She needs to go wash her hands."  
  
"Ryan, I'm fine." Kirsten told him, "I don't need to go anywhere."  
  
Ryan closed his eyes before saying, "No. She has to go. I threw up on her. She needs to go wash her hands." He couldn't believe how disgusted he was so he knew Kirsten had to be as well. Damn, not only couldn't he throw up without her help, but he couldn't even do it without getting it all over her.  
  
"Ryan, it was only a little bit on my hand...." Kirsten started to explain, but when Sandy noticed that Ryan refused to open his eyes, he interrupted her, "Kirsten, why don't you go? Let Seth know that everything is okay. I think I may have scared him by running in here. Then go wash up."  
  
"Fine." Kirsten answered, "If that's what you want, Ryan. I'll go talk to Seth then go to the ladies room, but then I'm coming right back."  
  
Ryan didn't answer, and was grateful that for once, Sandy didn't immediately begin to talk again. The room remained quiet until the nurse came and asked, "Are you feeling better now, Ryan?"  
  
He only opened one eye and looked at her. He was tired and nauseous, his arm hurt like hell and he just threw up on Kirsten, how did she think he felt? So he sarcastically told her, "Yeah. Just wonderful."  
  
He let out a loud sigh after Sandy warned, "Ryan!"  
  
The nurse either didn't notice or choose not to comment, but did explain to Sandy, "We're going to keep your son for another twenty or thirty minutes, to make sure the vomiting has subsided, and then he'll be moved upstairs. The doctor has left a standing order for the Compazine if Ryan gets sick again. If he doesn't vomit again before he goes up, there is also an order for Morphine that we'll give him to help take the edge off his pain."  
  
Since Ryan had his eyes shut, he didn't notice that Kirsten had come back into the room until he heard them both say, "Thank you." And then Kirsten added, "And I'm sorry. About before."  
  
When Ryan just let out another sigh and the nurse gave Kirsten half a smile, Sandy asked, "What happened before?"  
  
Kirsten smiled a little and said, "It was nothing, really," hoping to drop the subject, but Ryan told him, "Kirsten yelled at the nurse."  
  
"I didn't yell at her," Kirsten explained, "Ryan was sick, and he wanted you. She didn't want to get you so I just......"  
  
"Yelled at her." Ryan finished.  
  
"I didn't yell." Kirsten again said, "I just asked again a little louder. But if I knew you wanted Sandy so you could throw me out, I wouldn't have been so insisted."  
  
"You needed to go, wash off the... wash your hands." Ryan told her, with obvious disgust in his voice.  
  
"Ryan..." Kirsten started to say softly, but Sandy caught her eye and slightly shook his head, "Just try to get some rest for a while."  
  
But Ryan just ignored her and began to explain, "It's just. I tried to grab the bowl, but I forgot about my arm, and then there wasn't enough time to use my left arm. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen."  
  
"Ryan." Kirsten said to him, but when he wouldn't look at her, she again said, "Ryan!" a little louder, since she really disliked it when he refused to look at her.  
  
"You don't have to explain anything to me." She told him when he finally opened his eyes, "You didn't do anything wrong, so you need to stop this right now, and get some rest. You had a reaction to the anesthesia, nothing more, certainly nothing to be sorry for and definitely nothing to be ashamed of. Is that understood?"  
  
When Ryan didn't answer and only made a face, Sandy said, "Is that understood?"  
  
"Yeah, fine. Understood." Ryan mumbled as he closed his eyes. He was really tired and didn't want to continue the conversation since they weren't going to understand anyway.  
  
Sandy and Kirsten continued to watch Ryan quietly for a while. They knew when he first closed his eyes, it was to shut them out, but since he was still under the effects of the anesthesia, coupled with the pain of his arm and the stress and strain of the vomiting, it didn't take long before Ryan fell back asleep.  
  
"I think we're really going to be in for it." Sandy told Kirsten once he was sure Ryan was asleep.  
  
"In for what?" Kirsten whispered.  
  
Sandy pointed down to Ryan's right arm and told her, "Once he realizes exactly how limited he'll be and how difficult its going to be to do things for himself, he's not going to be a very happy camper."  
  
"He may not be happy," Kirsten answered, "but there really isn't anything he can do about it, so he's just going to have to accept our help."  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of." Sandy said, "He's not very good at accepting our help, now is he?"  
  
"Then I guess it's time for him to learn." Kirsten told him.  
  
"Yeah, well." Sandy said, "That's what I mean. We're really going to be in for it while he's learning."  
  
"You may be right," Kirsten answered as she leaned over and began to brush back Ryan's hair, "Its definitely going to be interesting once we get him home. Definitely interesting."  
  
"Hate to break this to you, sweetie," Sandy told her, "but I'm guessing the fun's going to start just as soon as he wakes up again." 


	8. Going from Bad to Worse

Sandy and Kirsten continued to quietly stare at Ryan as he slept. Unfortunately, he wasn't asleep for very long before they heard him moan.  
  
"You okay?" Sandy asked, not really sure if Ryan was awake or just moaning in his sleep, so he was actually a little surprised when Ryan answered, "No."  
  
Kirsten reached down and touched him before asking, "Is it your arm or your stomach?"  
  
"Both." Ryan moaned.  
  
He didn't immediately open his eyes, not until he heard Kirsten ask, "Do you think you're going to be sick again?"  
  
"No!" Ryan snapped. "It's just. I'm still nauseous, that's all. Nothing like before." Ryan tried to explain. He hadn't met to snap at Kirsten, but he couldn't stand to look at her holding the same bowl. Its just not going to happen again, he thought, never again would Kirsten be forced to catch puke.  
  
"What about your arm?" Sandy asked.  
  
"It hurts." Ryan mumbled, figuring that was as close to the truth as he wanted to tell Sandy. He really wasn't in the mood to listen to any more apologies. It was a relief to see a nurse approach his bed. It wasn't the same young nurse as before; it was an older one. Ryan figured Sandy and Kirsten would both be able to talk to her, and he'd be done with the questions.  
  
She just smiled at Ryan as she said, "It's good to see you're awake again. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Great, more questions." Ryan muttered under his breath, but told the nurse, "Fine."  
  
After catching the look he was getting from Kirsten, he quickly turned his head. He knew that look too well, and he knew he didn't like it.  
  
"He says his stomach is still upset, that he's still nauseous. And that his arm hurts." Kirsten informed the nurse, still giving Ryan her look.  
  
"It's not uncommon for the nausea to last about twenty-four hours. Ryan may still experience more vomiting as well during that time." The nurse informed them and then asked Ryan, "what does the pain in your arm feel like?"  
  
Ryan could only stare at this new nurse for a second before snidely telling her, "Like I broke it," and then quickly regretted the comment as both Sandy and Kirsten said, "Ryan!"  
  
"It hurts." Ryan added, "It's achy and sore, and it burns."  
  
"That's completely normal." The nurse told him, and as much as Ryan wanted to say, "then why ask?" he decided it would be better to not say anything, so he just rolled his eyes.  
  
"But since you haven't vomited again, I can give you something for the pain before we transfer you upstairs." The nurse continued as she moved to the side of Ryan's bed and began to pull his blankets back.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ryan asked, as he tried to pull the covers back up with his left hand, and it was then the nurse's turn to stare at Ryan for a second before telling him, "your pain medication, Ryan. I'm giving you pain medication."  
  
Ryan held up his left hand, showing her the IV and said, "It goes in here."  
  
The nurse shook her head and began to pull the blankets back again as she told him, "Nope. Sorry, honey. Your doctor ordered pain meds as needed, IM." And when Ryan only stared at her blankly she said, "Intramuscular." And when that didn't get a response from Ryan, she said, "A shot, Ryan. He ordered a shot."  
  
With his only remaining hand, Ryan held onto the blankets as he demanded to know, "Then what's the purpose of an IV if you're going to keep sticking things in my thigh?"  
  
"To keep you from getting dehydrated, to have an easy access in case of an emergency so we can administer medication quickly and because we feel like being mean." The nurse told him. Ryan wasn't sure if she was trying to joke or not since he couldn't tell by her tone. Either way, he knew he didn't like her, and he definitely didn't like the idea of another needle in his thigh.  
  
He liked it even less when she told him, "But don't worry. I won't stick this one in your thigh. Come on, roll onto your side."  
  
Ryan only shook his head no and glared at the nurse. He definitely liked the younger nurse better, the one Kirsten scared away. This older one didn't seem to notice or even care that he was glaring at her.  
  
"Ryan," Kirsten finally said, "Do as the nurse says."  
  
"Come on, Ryan." The nurse tried to sound sweet, "I promise, it will only sting for a second. I'm sure you can hold your mom's hand, and it'll be over one, two, three. Then you'll feel much better."  
  
Ryan continued to glare at her as he told her, "Don't patronize me. I'm not a child."  
  
It was Sandy who finally pulled back the covers and told Ryan, "Then stop acting like one. The nurse is only following the doctor's orders, so you need to do as she says."  
  
Ryan shifted his glare from the nurse to Sandy and just as quickly stopped as Ryan's glare was met with a glare from Sandy. Not exactly the face of a man filled with Jewish guilt, Ryan thought as he looked down at his bed, weighing his options. He realized there were no options when Sandy simply said, "Now, Ryan!" in that tone that Ryan knew meant not to argue.  
  
He didn't argue, but Ryan did try to explain, "It's just. They've already stuck me twice in my thigh, and now she wants to stick that one in my... not in my thigh. I have an IV. I know you can stick medication in an IV." But no one said anything to Ryan; they all just stared at him until he finally said, "fine," and rolled onto his side.  
  
Kirsten did try to hold his hand, but he balled it into a fist as he felt the nurse move his hospital gown out of the way. He then closed his eyes as he felt the cold alcohol wipe, and then he clenched his jaw when he felt the stinging pinch of the needle.  
  
"There you go. All done. See, that wasn't so bad." The mean old nurse told him as she tugged his gown down and recovered him with the blankets. Ryan didn't move or saying anything at first. He really wanted to tell the nurse what he thought of her and her shot, but knew it wouldn't matter. Nothing he had said or wanted had matter, so he figured this wouldn't be any different. It came as a shock to Ryan when he felt a tear in his eye, and he wiped it away quickly, hoping that Kirsten and Sandy didn't see him. Ryan let out a sigh as he rolled back onto his back. He relaxed his fist and unclenched his jaw slightly, but kept his eyes closed. He decided it would be best if he just lay back and waited for the Morphine to kick in. He didn't want to look at Kirsten or Sandy, and he certainly didn't want to talk to them.  
  
He wanted to open his eyes even less after he felt Kirsten run her hand over his head and whisper, "It's okay. You'll feel better soon. I promise." Then he felt a strong squeeze on his left shoulder and knew it was from Sandy. Great, Ryan thought, they did see me crying over the damn shot. It was a relief to Ryan when he began to feel the effects of the Morphine take hold. He knew it would take the edge off his pain so he relaxed and waited to embrace the same happy feeling he had after the last shot.  
  
His happy feeling was short lived when he heard the mean old nurse talking. He assumed she was talking to Kirsten and Sandy, but then heard two vaguely familiar voices so he opened his eyes to see two orderlies standing by his bed.  
  
"Hey, Ryan, my man!" the one orderly said and when Ryan looked at him strangely he added, "It's us. Your old pals Roger and Dion, here to take you on another short ride just as soon as you're ready to go."  
  
This guy's a little too cheerful Ryan thought but as long as they were there to get him out of Recovery, he was more then willing to go with them. "Yeah, home, James." Ryan tried to joke, but the orderly just told him, "Actually, it's Roger. And home for right now is third floor, Peds."  
  
"Peds? Peds!" Ryan exclaimed, "As in Pediatrics? Why am I going to Pediatrics?"  
  
"Because you're a minor." The nurse told him, holding up his chart and pointing to a bright red sticker. "All minors go to the Pediatric wing after Recovery."  
  
"It's only for a little while." Sandy reassured him, "Just a couple of hours until you're strong enough to go home."  
  
"I'm strong enough to go home now." Ryan insisted, and when they all just stared at him again, he mumbled "fine" again. Then added, "Just don't tell Seth where we're going."  
  
"Ryan," Kirsten told him, "I don't think Seth cares where you're moved to. I think he's just going to be glad to finally be able to see you."  
  
"Besides," Sandy added, "He promised, no more jokes about your arm."  
  
"Yeah, what's he going to do, stop breathing?" Ryan mumbled.  
  
Kirsten tried to reassure him by telling him, "You'll see. He's just going to be happy to see for himself that you're okay."  
  
Ryan just shook his head slightly instead of arguing with Kirsten. He still wasn't feeling well, despite the Morphine shot, so when the orderlies began to move his bed, he closed his eyes and tried not to think of the queasy feeling in his stomach. No one said anything else as the orderlies continued to move Ryan, with Kirsten and Sandy following behind, but they were all greeted by Seth the second they got through the double doors that led Ryan out of Recovery.  
  
"Well, it's about time!" Seth said, "I was beginning to think you decided to slip out the back way or something. Did you guys forget you had another kid here? One who may be just a little curious as to what was going on?"  
  
"Seth," Kirsten reminded him, "You knew Ryan had to stay in Recovery for a while."  
  
"That was a long while." Seth told her before turning to Ryan, "I'm glad to see you return! So, how you doing Gimpy?"  
  
"Gimpy?" Ryan asked. Must be the Morphine, he thought.  
  
"Yeah," Seth told him, pointing to his right side. "Gimpy."  
  
"Seth," Ryan explained, "Gimpy is what you call someone who hurt his leg, not his arm."  
  
Seth just shrugged and then said, "Oh, okay. Then how about Lefty?"  
  
"Seth....." Ryan warned.  
  
"Don't like Lefty?" Seth told him, "How about Bandit?"  
  
"Bandit?" Ryan asked, and then realized, he shouldn't have asked.  
  
"Yeah, you know," Seth joked, "Like the one armed bandit. Vegas."  
  
"Seth, knock it off." Kirsten told him as Sandy said, "No more jokes."  
  
"I just figured you'd like a catchy nickname, like Lefty or Bandit, or how about The Claw?" Seth joked.  
  
"Ya know, Death Breath Seth," Ryan told him, "You really need to stop breathing right now."  
  
Seth looked at his parents first and then down at Ryan's glare before mumbling, "Fine then, Grumpy it is. Grumpy Ryan."  
  
Ryan only hissed, "Seth!" as they entered the elevator and one of the orderlies began to laugh. He then decided to just keep his eyes closed and hoped he would fall back asleep before they reached the third floor and Seth realized where they were.  
  
Unfortunately, Ryan suddenly heard the elevator doors open and felt the bed begin to move, but decided to pretend to be asleep as they exited the elevator and entered Pediatrics, especially when he heard Seth say, "Um, what? Where are?" before Sandy warned, "Not a word, Seth. Not one word."  
  
As his bed stopped again, Ryan opened his eyes and looked around. They had stopped by the front desk as one of the orderlies handed his chart over to the nurse, and Ryan got to take in what the Pediatrics wing of a Newport hospital looked like. And he hated it. The walls were painted the most annoying shade of bright yellow and decorated with balloons and cartoon characters. Ryan only closed his eyes again as he moaned, "Oh, man."  
  
He felt a pat on his shoulder as Seth told him, "My thoughts exactly," and Kirsten reminded him, "It's only for a little while."  
  
Ryan just sighed as he told Seth, "Just say it and get it over with."  
  
"No way, dude," Seth told him, "You got my full sympathies here."  
  
"It's only for a little while." Kirsten said again, this time a little louder as if it really mattered.  
  
As Ryan was moved to his room, he had hoped it wouldn't be as annoying as the front desk. He was wrong. His room was also the bright nasty shade of yellow, but at least it didn't have any cartoon characters. It did, however, have a small little table and some small chairs. Ryan also hoped for a little bit of privacy as the orderlies moved him to his bed and the nurse began to take his pulse, temperature and blood pressure. Wrong again, because standing in the corner of his room were Seth, Kirsten and Sandy watching him intently again.  
  
"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked Ryan when she was done, and he only mumbled, "Fine." The nurse looked at Ryan and then over at the Cohens, and Ryan noticed as all three Cohens just shook their heads.  
  
"How is the arm? Is it still sore and burning?" The nurse asked, hoping for more specific answers, but Ryan only said, "Not really."  
  
"And the nausea? How is that?" the nurse asked, and Ryan just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay."  
  
"On a scale of 1 to 10, how is the pain in your arm?" the nurse asked, figuring he'd have to give some sort of an answer to that.  
  
"I don't know." Ryan said, "4, maybe 5."  
  
The nurse nodded and then said, "And the nausea? On a scale of 1 to 10, how nauseous are you?"  
  
Ryan looked away, then down at his bed and finally mumbled, "Real nauseous." And then instantly regretted his decision to be honest as he saw Kirsten take a step towards his bed.  
  
"Okay," the nurse told him, "I think it might be a good idea if you attempt to relax and get some sleep. It may help with the nausea."  
  
Ryan held up his left hand and said, "When does this come out? And when can I go home?"  
  
"Ryan..." Sandy started to say, but the nurse very nicely explained, "I know it's been a long day for you, Ryan, but we need to take it slowly for a reason. You did just have major surgery, and we want to be pretty sure that everything is all right before we send you home. I think if you get some rest, you'll feel better and then we'll see about getting you something to eat. As long as you can handle some food in your stomach and then you're able to urinate, we'll see about removing the IV and sending you home."  
  
At first Ryan just nodded at the nurse since she seemed sincere enough, but then as what she said registered with him, he asked, "Wait. I had surgery on my arm. What does eating and peeing have to do with a broken arm?"  
  
"Hospital policy, Ryan." The nurse explained, "I told you, we want to make sure everything is okay before we send you home. Get some rest now."  
  
"So I can't leave until I sleep, eat and pee." Ryan snidely said.  
  
This time it was Kirsten who said, "Ryan....", and he realized exactly what she was going to say.  
  
"Don't say it. Okay? I'm sorry I said it. Just. Don't say it." Ryan told her, causing the nurse to look at him and then at Kirsten. "Say what?" she finally asked, but Ryan just looked away as Kirsten looked at him.  
  
Seth finally said, "Don't say pee." The nurse then turned to Seth and asked, "Excuse me?"  
  
"Mom doesn't like it when we say pee. Ryan said pee twice so Mom was going to tell him not to say pee, but Ryan told her not to tell him not to say pee." Seth explained to a now very confused nurse who only said, "Um, okay. Get some rest Ryan. If you need anything, my name is Barbara."  
  
Ryan waited for the nurse to leave before sinking lower in the bed. If he was going to be honest, he was pretty tired and still sore and very nauseous and taking a nap actually sounded like a good idea. Well, it would be a good idea if there weren't three pairs of eyes staring at him.  
  
"You know, I'm sure someone will call you after I've slept and eaten and other stuff." Ryan said, looking at Kirsten as he said "other stuff."  
  
And the same three pair of eyes continued to stare at him, no one even acknowledging that he said anything until Ryan just sighed, closed his eyes and eventually fell back asleep.  
  
Ryan had no idea how long he slept for, but he slowly became aware of the noises around him. He also realized that sleeping did nothing for the ache in his arm or the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"What's going on?" he mumbled as he tried to focus his eyes.  
  
Kirsten pulled a tray closer to him as she told him, "They brought you something to eat."  
  
Ryan just groaned, "Not hungry," as he tried to turn his head away from the food tray.  
  
"You might feel better if you try to eat something." Kirsten told him, and when Ryan only shook his head, she added, "Do you think you could at least try? They won't let you go home until you've had something to eat."  
  
"Stupid hospital policy." Ryan muttered to himself as he sat up and looked at the tray in front of him.  
  
As Kirsten uncovered the tray for him, she pointed out what Ryan already knew as the obvious, "You have some toast, some soup, Jell-O and apple juice. I think you can handle that, right?"  
  
At first, Ryan didn't answer her, nor did he begin to eat. He could only stare at the tray. And then as Kirsten opened the top of his soup and put the straw in his apple juice and then began to cut up his Jell-O into bite size pieces, Ryan could only stare at her.  
  
He waited for the snickering and then the jokes, but when none came, he finally looked around and realized Seth wasn't there to witness the humiliation, only Sandy sat in a chair across the room, and Ryan was thankful he was kind enough not to say anything.  
  
"Come on, Ryan." Kirsten encouraged, "Try to eat some of this. Do you need any help?"  
  
"No." Ryan told her flatly, "You've done enough. Thanks. Where's Seth?"  
  
"Calling Marissa and Summer again." Sandy told him as he stood up and approached the bed, "Yeah, I think you can handle that by yourself, easy enough to pick up with one hand, I guess."  
  
Ryan glanced from Sandy to Kirsten as they stood over him watching and waiting for him to eat. He really didn't like the way his stomach was feeling, but figured maybe they were right. Maybe if he just eat something he would feel better. At the very least, eating took him one step closer to going home. Ryan picked up the apple juice and drank that, and then picked up the toast and began to eat that. He decided to skip the bit size pieces of Jell-o and picked up the small bowl of soup and began to sip that. It didn't take Ryan long to pick at enough of the toast and drink the soup and apple juice. One step closer to going home Ryan again thought as he pushed the tray away and lay back on the bed.  
  
Ryan turned his head quickly as he heard Seth coming back into the room, and suddenly realized that everyone wasn't right, eating had not made him feel better. It made him feel worse and as he frantically began to look around the room, he realized he was about to feel a whole lot worse real soon.  
  
"Oh, God." He moaned as he quickly sat up and finally noticed the bowl he was looking for sitting on the table to his right. Kirsten recognized what was happening and grabbed the bowl Ryan was frantically trying to reach with his left hand.  
  
"Gimme." Ryan groaned as he tried to pull the bowl from Kirsten's hand, but didn't get the chance as his stomach turned one final time, and Ryan began to get violently ill. Once again, Kirsten held the bowl in front of Ryan with one hand and began to rub his back with her other. Making the whole situation worse was the fact Sandy came up on the other side of Ryan and also held onto the bowl with one hand and rubbed Ryan's back with his other hand. And there was nothing Ryan could do about it as he continued to vomit up the soup and the apple juice and the toast.  
  
He barely heard Sandy tell Seth, "Get the nurse." And he never saw Seth leave, or see him return shortly with the nurse. He didn't notice anything until he saw the nurse standing next to Kirsten holding another needle in her hand.  
  
"No, don't." Ryan managed in between the heaving. But the nurse didn't listen as she pulled back the blankets and pulled up Ryan's hospital gown.  
  
"I said Don't!" Ryan managed to grunt out as he slowly stopped throwing up food and began to again throw up bile. And still the nurse didn't listen as she quickly swabbed Ryan's upper thigh with the alcohol wipe and before Ryan could try to stop her, she stuck the needle in.  
  
It took several minutes before Ryan's stomach settled down, before the vomiting and heaving subsided, and before he could lie back in the bed and try to catch his breath. As he closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing, he felt someone once again wipe his face with a washcloth. As he opened his eyes, he saw Kirsten leaning over him. He then saw that Sandy was still standing next to his bed, and noticed Seth standing at the foot of his bed. They were all staring at him, and it made him extremely uncomfortable. He then heard the toilet flush in the bathroom and watched as the nurse walked back into the room.  
  
"Feeling better?" she asked as she put the now empty throw up back on the table next to his bed.  
  
"Don't you people listen?" Ryan finally snapped, "I said not to stick me! I said to give me the damn throw up bowl! I said I didn't want to eat!"  
  
"Ryan, it's okay." Kirsten tried to softly tell him as she gently began to rub his shoulders.  
  
But Ryan only shrugged her off. "No, it's not okay! How the hell is any of this okay?" and when he noticed that Seth was still staring at him, he snapped, "What, Seth? Just say it."  
  
Seth held up in hands and told Ryan, "Dude, I just want to make sure you're all right!"  
  
"Do I look all right?" Ryan snapped again.  
  
"Ryan, you need to calm down." Sandy told him, and when Ryan turned to meet Sandy's stare with a glare, Sandy continued, "It will be okay, just as soon as you settle down."  
  
Ryan had an answer for Sandy, for all of them, but choose not to say it. Instead he let out a deep breath, clenched his left fist, slammed his head back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. He was still tired, still sore and still nauseous, and he just wanted to go home, crawl into his own bed and forget this whole day ever happened. Except he knew he couldn't, not with his right arm as a constant reminder of this day, that started out not so bad but just kept going from bad to worse.  
  
. 


	9. Grumpy Ryan

It was obvious that Ryan had no intentions of talking to anyone as he continued to stare up at the ceiling, with his left fist clenched and his jaw set firmly. That didn't stop any of them from talking about Ryan though.

"Is this normal?" Seth asked. "I mean, is Ryan going to be okay?"

The tone of his voice and the expression on his face made it clear to the nurse that Seth was really worried about Ryan so Barbara tried to be very kind to him. "Ryan's going to be fine. This is a relatively common side effect of the anesthesia."

However, Kirsten was still concerned. "I thought the Compazine was supposed to stop the vomiting. But he threw up a lot more this time than he did in Recovery."

Barbara continued using a calm, soothing voice as she explained, "In Recovery, Ryan had no food in his stomach. This time it was right after he ate. There was more in his stomach to vomit."

Not one of them missed the glare they received from Ryan when the nurse blamed the vomiting on eating, since it was something Ryan didn't want to do in the first place. However, no one could understand what Ryan mumbled under his breath, nor would he repeat it when Sandy asked, "What was that?"

But since Ryan was intent on focusing his attention to the ceiling, Sandy turned back to the nurse. "If he can't eat, what should we do?"

"As long as it's a reaction to the anesthesia, then it will pass eventually," Barbara explained. "And I believe it's a reaction. Nothing more. But I am still going to page the doctor to see what he recommends."

"Is Ryan going to have to stay?" Kirsten asked.

Barbara smiled at Kirsten's concern, "That will be up to the doctor. He may decide to admit Ryan overnight. I think that it'll all depend on how Ryan is feeling in a little while, and if he gets sick again. If he's concerned about Ryan becoming dehydrated, then he may keep him as a precaution."

"No." Ryan did not look at any of them as he continued to glare at the ceiling.

"No what?" Kirsten hoped he meant that he wasn't going to be sick again, that he felt better.

"No, I'm not staying." Ryan informed them.

Ryan then made a face when Kirsten patted his shoulder. "We'll see what the doctor has to say."

Ryan just mumbled, "not staying" as he shifted himself lower in the bed and closed his eyes. He wasn't going to argue with them. He just wasn't going to stay.

Kirsten opened her mouth to continue the growing debate with Ryan, but Sandy shook his head. He understood that Ryan was upset and didn't feel well, so he figured it probably wasn't the time to argue with him. It would all depend on what the doctor said, because if the doctor wanted Ryan to stay, then there would be plenty of time for arguing.

Barbara waited a second, but no one said anything further. "Okay. I've got to go check on my other 16-year-old patient. Hit the call button if you need anything. Otherwise, I'll be back when the doctor gets here. Try to get some rest, Ryan. You'll feel better."

Ryan didn't open his eyes as he made yet another face at the nurse's statement. It was a look that didn't go unnoticed again by Kirsten and Sandy.

"Another 16 year old? Aren't you lucky." Kirsten said.

Barbara laughed. "Well at least this one is unconscious." Sandy and Kirsten only stared at her, unsure of how to respond. "I'm sorry. Not like that. This 16-year-old boy decided to drink himself unconscious. The police brought him in to sleep it off. I just need to make sure he's okay, and calm his mother down some more. Poor kid's going to have a big enough headache when he wakes up. I'm hoping his mother will wait until he sleeps it off before yelling, or at least wait until they get home."

"I doubt she'll wait," Sandy looked pointedly at Seth to Ryan, "I know I wouldn't."

Barbara smiled as she left. Seth, who was not willing to pick up on his father's little threat attempt, just changed the subject. "So listen," he told Ryan. "I tried Marissa and Summer again. Still no luck. I can't believe they still haven't turned their cell phones back on."

Ryan only shrugged. He already had enough with Sandy, Kirsten and Seth hovering over him so he was actually relieved that Marissa and Summer wouldn't be joining this little hospital party any time in the near future.

"I mean, you would think they'd check their messages." Seth was oblivious to the fact that Ryan didn't seem to care much.

"Seth," Ryan finally said, "they said they wouldn't be around today. They said they would be spending the day at the Spa. The entire day, Seth. You knew that already."

Seth shrugged. "Yeah, but you would think in an emergency, they would at least check their messages!"

"What emergency?" Ryan snapped. "This isn't an emergency."

"Fine. Catastrophe," Seth told him. "I just find it annoying that we can't get in touch with them when we need them."

"You don't need them, Seth," Sandy said. "Neither does Ryan. And this isn't an emergency or a catastrophe. It was an accident. You can call Summer later, when you know she's home, and Ryan can see Marissa tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Ryan couldn't believe what Sandy was saying. "Why tomorrow?"

Sandy's answer was very short and to the point. "Because you're not up for it today." Ryan sighed loudly and closed his eyes. He wasn't going to argue with them. He was going to call Marissa as soon as he got home.

They all became silent as they watched Ryan appear to drift off to sleep. Ryan wasn't really sleeping. But he was through talking to them.

Ryan jumped when he heard the door open and then sat up quickly. He knew it was the doctor, and he knew it had to appear that he was fine so he could go home. Unfortunately, sitting up quickly was not the smartest way to prove his point since he instantly felt dizzy and the ever-present queasy feeling in his stomach only intensified.

And as much as Ryan wanted to lie back down and close his eyes, he knew that would be too obvious. So instead he focused his eyes down on his blanket and took a couple of deep breaths and swallowed a few times, hoping he could make the feeling go away without anyone noticing. It didn't take Ryan long to realize that Kirsten did in fact notice when she appeared by his side, holding his God-awful throw up bowl.

He only gave her a side-glance as he growled, "I'm fine. I don't need that."

Kirsten gave Ryan a look as she put the bowl down. She then looked at Sandy, wanting to see if he was going to say anything to Ryan, but Sandy only shrugged his shoulder.

It was Dr. Gross who finally said something. "So, I hear you're not feeling so great, Ryan."

"I said I was fine!" Ryan snapped.

Kirsten was fed up. "Ryan!"

Dr. Gross only nodded at Ryan before turning to Sandy and Kirsten. "Mr. And Mrs. Cohen, why doesn't everyone wait outside while we examine Ryan? The nurse will get you when we're finished."

Barbara held the door open as the three left, but not before Kirsten turned one last time and pointed her finger at Ryan. She figured he'd understand that it meant to behave and not to give the doctor or the nurse a bad time. But when Ryan only glared at her and then looked away, she doubted he was going to listen to her silent warning.

Kirsten waited until they were in the hallway and the door to Ryan's room was closed before she turned to Sandy. "How long are you going to let him get away with that?"

She was shocked when Sandy looked confused. "Get away with what?"

"Get away with what?" Kirsten repeated, "Get away with being nasty and surly and rude and...."

"And grumpy." Seth added.

Sandy shrugged his shoulders. "I know he's not exactly himself, but I think we can cut him some slack for right now. Think about it, not only is he in pain and trying to come to terms with a broken arm and the surgery, but he's also sick to his stomach, and can't stop vomiting. I'd say he has a right to be grumpy. Knowing Ryan, just as soon as he's feeling better, he'll apologize. Just give him a day or two."

"A day or two?" Kirsten said. "I'll tolerate grumpy for a day or two, but I won't tolerate rude or surly for that long. So for his sake, I hope he feels better soon."

Before Sandy could answer, the door to Ryan's room opened and Barbara stuck her head out. "Mr. And Mrs. Cohen, the doctor is finished if you'd like to come back in."

As they all re-entered Ryan's room, Kirsten quickly dismissed Sandy's description of grumpy. Ryan didn't look grumpy. He looked down right nasty, and Dr. Gross was standing there staring at him. Kirsten wondered what happened during the doctor's examination, but really wasn't looking forward to finding out.

"So everything's okay?" Sandy gave Ryan's leg a quick squeeze.

"Everything's fine." Dr. Gross explained. "Ryan's cast looks good, and he is able to wiggle his fingers. I know it hurts, Ryan, but you do need to move them several times a day. After a few days the pain will subside, making it easier to move them."

When Ryan just made a face and turned away, Dr. Gross turned his attention to Sandy and Kirsten. "As I was explaining to Ryan, for right now he has to be very careful with trying not to do too much with his right arm. Obviously with the cast and the sling, that should be relatively easy to do. But I don't want him to try to pick anything up with his fingers or try to carry anything even remotely heavy. You don't want to risk the bones moving or the screw shifting. Additionally, he needs to keep the cast dry, which means no showers or pools or oceans. He can soak in a tub as long as he keeps his right arm hanging over the side. There are things you can put over a cast to prevent it from getting wet, but for right now, I would prefer it if Ryan was just careful. Give the bones a chance to begin the healing process and his incisions the time to close."

"My bathroom only has a shower," Ryan announced to no one in particular.

Kirsten looked at him. "Then you can switch to one of the bedrooms that has a bathroom with a tub."

"I like my room," Ryan said.

When Kirsten gave him a look, Sandy decided to step in. "I'm sure we can work it out at home, later."

"What about the nausea and vomiting?" Kirsten was talking to the doctor, but she was looking at Ryan.

"I'd venture to say it's a side effect to the anesthesia. It'll pass," Dr. Gross told them.

"But I'm going home," Ryan said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Dr. Gross nodded. "Yes, Ryan. You can go home. In a little while. Barbara is going to bring you something to drink, basically some flat ginger ale. As long as you can keep that done, we can discharge you. Have you urinated yet?"

Ryan glared at Dr. Gross before shaking his head slightly. He decided it would be better to bite his tongue than make a nasty pee joke.

"Well, you still have to do that in addition to keeping down the ginger ale, and then we can discharge you. Deal?" Dr. Gross told him.

"What happens if he can't keep it down?" Sandy asked, but before Dr. Gross could answer, Ryan told him, "I'm still going home."

"Don't worry, Ryan. You will go home some time today." Dr. Gross turned to Sandy, "I can write a prescription for Compazine suppositories in case Ryan still experiences some vomiting after he gets home."

Sandy and Kirsten both nodded, relieved that there was a way for Ryan to go home even if he was still sick. Ryan, on the other hand, was neither relieved nor happy.

"A prescription for what?!" Ryan hissed.

"Compazine," Kirsten told him, "But don't worry, it's not a shot. It's.... They're.... They go...."

"I know where they go!" Ryan quickly said, not wanting Kirsten to continue her attempts to explain. "And I don't need them."

"Ryan..." Kirsten tried to explain but Ryan cut her off, "No!"

"Ryan," Dr. Gross finally said, "just because I'm giving your parents this prescription doesn't mean you'll need it. It's just a precaution in case you get sick again. Otherwise you run the risk of becoming dehydrated, and then you'll end up right back here. And I know you don't want that."

Ryan just shook his head as he slumped down in the bed and drew his knees up to his chest. A prescription for suppositories and a Kirsten in parental overdrive – Ryan didn't even want to think about that combination.

"I'll leave the discharge instructions with Barbara along with the prescriptions for the Compazine, pain medication and an antibiotic," Ryan heard Dr. Gross tell Sandy and Kirsten. "Contact my office on Monday to schedule Ryan's follow up appointment, and please feel free to call me with any questions or concerns any time."

Ryan felt a light tap on his leg. "See you soon, Ryan. Take it easy." When Ryan's only response was a loud exhale, Dr. Gross looked at Kirsten and Sandy, and added, "Good luck."

As Dr. Gross left and Barbara went to get Ryan something to drink, Ryan began to stare up at the ceiling, again not wanting to talk. Kirsten tried to brush the hair off his face, but Ryan pulled away. "Ryan, it's not that bad," she tried to tell him.

His face said it all. "For who?"

"It'll be okay," Kirsten promised. "We'll manage. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried because there's nothing to manage!" Ryan snapped.

"Okay, Ryan," Sandy told him. "That's enough."

Ryan wanted to tell Sandy that it was definitely enough, that he had had enough. He wanted to yell at him for the broken arm and for being in the hospital and for the shots and the surgery and the throwing up and for just about everything, but he didn't. Ryan didn't say anything. He just clenched his fist and his teeth and closed his eyes.

He groaned through gritted teeth when Barbara returned a few minutes later with his something to drink. She smiled at him as she placed the can and a cup down on the tray in front of him. "Just take it slow. Take very small sips and then take a break. See how it sits in your stomach. Hopefully you won't have any trouble with this."

Ryan just watched as Barbara smiled at him, then at Kirsten and Sandy and then left again. He continued to watch as Kirsten grabbed the soda, opened it and poured it into his cup. He knew she wouldn't think twice about holding it up to his mouth so he could sip it slowly if he let her. He just wasn't going to let her.

As Kirsten held the cup up, Ryan told her, "No, I got it," and reached over to take it from her. Unfortunately, he bumped Kirsten's hand instead of grabbing the cup, and then swore loudly as he watched the cup slip out of Kirsten's hand and spill all over the floor.

Ryan sat there for a minute, in total disbelief that he couldn't even grab a cup without it going wrong. He didn't immediately notice that Sandy had gotten paper towels until Sandy handed them to Kirsten and they both bent down to mop up the mess.

"Ryan, I'm sorry," Kirsten said. "It was an accident. I should have held on to the cup tighter."

"Not your fault," Ryan muttered as he turned his head away in disgust instead of watching Kirsten and Sandy clean up his mess.

Seth tried to laugh and make a joke as he asked Ryan, "Dude, is there anything you can do with your left hand?" He knew it came out wrong when Sandy scolded, "Seth!"

"I can still make a fist." Ryan glared at Seth, which made Seth very uncomfortable.

"Ryan!" Kirsten snapped. "Seth, go ask the nurse for another soda."

Seth didn't say anything as he hustled out of the room, nor did he say anything when he returned a few minutes later carrying another soda. As he placed the soda down in front of Ryan, he finally said, "Sorry. Real bad joke."Ryan only nodded as he grabbed the soda with his left hand. He was going to open it, he was going to pour it, and he was going to drink it. By himself. No matter what.

It was a struggle, but Ryan managed. He could see Kirsten out of the corner of his eye, and he could tell it was really bothering her not to help him. But he had to give her credit; she let him do it himself. For the first time all day, he was actually able to do something by himself. She did remind him once to "sip it slowly."

So he did. He took a sip, put the cup down and waited. When nothing happened, he picked the cup up again, took another sip, and waited. After his third sip, he felt his stomach begin to get upset again, so he decided he'd had enough soda. He closed his eyes, waiting to see what would happen.

"You okay?" he heard Sandy ask. At first Ryan was afraid to speak so he just nodded. When he felt the queasy feeling actually start to pass, Ryan finally said, "Just taking it slowly. Think I can go home now?"

"Doubt it. Not right now anyway. But soon." Sandy promised as he picked up the cup. "Want more?"

"Only if I can go home." When the only response he got was a look from Sandy and Kirsten, he took the cup and sipped again.

Half way through his cup of flat ginger ale, Ryan began to suspect that he was going to be sick again. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He knew if he continued to throw up, he'd never be able to go home, or worse, he'd go home with Kirsten armed with Compazine suppositories. Since neither thought was very appealing, Ryan closed his eyes and began to take deep breaths as he silently prayed for the feeling to just go away.

He felt Kirsten run her hand over his head, and Sandy put his hand on Ryan's leg. He knew it was their way of letting him know they were there for him. Always there. Staring at him. Hovering over him. Ready to help if he had to puke his brains out. And Ryan was really finding that so damn annoying. He wasn't sure at what point Kirsten put that stupid throw up bowl next to his left arm, but when bumped it with his hand, he opened one eye and saw it. When he looked at her, Kirsten just shrugged her shoulders. "In case we need it," she told him.

Ryan swallowed hard and closed his eyes again. He was going to do everything he possibly could to make sure they didn't need it. Ryan jumped at the sound of the nurse's voice. "How's it going? Has he been able to keep any of it down?"

Before he could get a chance to tell her himself, Kirsten said, "So far. He hasn't thrown any of it up, but he's not feeling all that well."

"How long has it been since he drank any of the soda?" the nurse asked.

Again before Ryan could answer for himself, Sandy said, "About ten minutes."

"That's pretty good," the nurse said. "We can take out the IV now if you'd like." And when Barbara didn't get a response, she asked, "Ryan?"

Ryan couldn't help but be snide. "Oh, you mean you were talking to me?" He wouldn't break his eye contact with the nurse, despite the looks he knew he was getting from Sandy and Kirsten.

"Yes, Ryan." Her tone was flat. "I can remove the IV. Someone can help you to the bathroom, and help you get dressed so you can be discharged. You would like to go home, wouldn't you?"

"I don't need help going to the bathroom." Just the thought made Ryan forget about going home. No one was going to convince him he needed anymore help in the bathroom.

Barbara sat on the bed and began to remove the tape that held Ryan's IV in place. "Maybe not, but you need help getting to the bathroom. You're going to be a little unsteady on your feet. If you start to lose your balance, it will be difficult for you to grab onto anything; so it's better if one of your parents helps you."

She tried to be as gentle as possible as she covered the top of the IV with some cotton and pulled the needle from Ryan's hand. Ryan sucked in his breath through gritted teeth. "Sorry, it stings a little coming out," she told him.

"Ya think?!" Ryan snapped.

"All right, Ryan." Kirsten's tone made it clear that she was getting more than a little annoyed. "Come on, let's just get you up and to the bathroom."

"I don't need help going to the bathroom," Ryan repeated, this time a lot louder.

As Kirsten pulled back his covers, she told him, "I'm not helping you go to the bathroom. I'm helping you get to the bathroom. Just like the nurse said. I don't want you getting dizzy or losing your balance and ending up falling."

"I can do it myself." Ryan hissed as he sat up in bed and realized damn, he was dizzy.

"Ryan...." Sandy began, but Barbara tried one last time to be the voice of reason between her stubborn, very whiney patient and his equally stubborn, very annoyed parents. "Ryan, you need to let your mother help you. Just lean on her as you walk. That's all. Come on, moms live for the day when their teenage sons actually need their help."

Barbara had hoped Ryan would see the joke, or at the very least, just give in and accept the help. She was at a loss for words when Ryan looked at her and hissed, "She's not my mother. She's my guardian. There is a difference."

All day long they kept saying your parents or your mother or your father, and by that point, Ryan found it irritating as hell. It didn't stop him from immediately regretting what he said when he saw the hurt expression on Kirsten's face. He knew none of it was her fault.

"Kirsten, I...." Ryan tried to stutter out an apology, but when Kirsten took a step back from the bed and wrapped her arms around herself, Ryan realized, "I'm sorry" wasn't going to be good enough.


	10. I'm Sorry, Can We Go Home?

Barbara was the first to say anything, and all she could do was stutter as she looked at Ryan's chart. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. It doesn't say...." She never noticed it before, but the section where an adult signs for a minor clearly stated "signature of parent/guardian." She always assumed parent, and she was never corrected. Until today.

Sandy only nodded at her before saying, "Why doesn't everyone wait outside? I'll help Ryan." 

The tone of Sandy's voice didn't go unnoticed by any of them, as Kirsten and Seth both silently nodded their heads and quickly followed the nurse out of the room. Ryan tried to look Sandy in the eyes, but looked away when he saw that Sandy's face matched Sandy's tone. They were both angry. He tried to shrink back into the bed as Sandy approached him and was shocked when all Sandy said was, "Come on, Ryan. Let's get you up and into the bathroom."

Ryan knew he was in enough trouble for what he said to Kirsten, so Ryan was smart enough not to argue as Sandy helped him out of the bed and guided him to the bathroom. He was relieved when Sandy opened the bathroom door, but didn't come in. Sandy at least let him have some dignity. Ryan also knew what to expect when he opened the bathroom door. He knew Sandy would be standing there on the other side, waiting to help him again. Sandy guided him back to the bed before telling him, "Sit down, Ryan."

So Ryan sat and waited. He knew it was coming, so he focused on a spot on the floor and waited for Sandy to start. Sandy took Ryan's boxers, sweatpants and sandals out of the bag and put them down next to him. "Here are your clothes, and guess what? I'm going to help you put them on. And you're going to let me. If you want to be mad, then be mad. At me. Not at Kirsten and not at Seth."

"I'm not..." Ryan started to say before Sandy cut him off. "Yes, you are. Otherwise you wouldn't be arguing with Kirsten or threatening Seth. So I'm telling you now - you want to be mad, then be mad at me. And even then, there's only so much I'm willing to accept. We're here to help you."

"I don't need help," Ryan still insisted, without lifting his eyes off that spot on the floor.

Sandy took a step closer to Ryan as he slowly and forcefully told him, "Yes. You do."

Ryan could only shake his head before looking at the pile of clothes. "I can't."

"You can't what?" Sandy asked, although he was pretty sure what Ryan meant.

"I can't let you do that." Ryan sighed as he continued to stare at the pile of clothes.

"Ryan," Sandy said, "you don't have a choice. Whether you like it or not, you need the help of your family right now. You need to accept that fact because we are going to help you."

Ryan finally looked up at Sandy. "Accept it? How do you expect me to accept it? I can't.... It's too...." Ryan just shook his head. He'd been taking care of himself for years, and now Sandy expected him to be happy about the fact he needed help.

"Then don't accept it." Sandy told him. "You want to make this even more unpleasant by being nasty about it? Fine. But know this - we are going to help you, because you need help and because we're your family. We're not going to sit by and watch you risk hurting yourself just because you're too stubborn to turn to someone for help. If you need help getting dressed, one of us is going to help you. If you need help with your food, we'll be there. And if you need help because you're still vomiting from the anesthesia, guess what? We're going to help you. Accept it, don't accept it. Like it, don't like it. Either way, that's how it's going to be. Is that clear?"

"It's going to be really hard," Ryan whispered, but Sandy just patted him on the shoulder. "Only as hard as you want to make it."

Ryan could only let out another sigh as he lowered his head. He didn't doubt for a minute that they were going to be there. He didn't like it and knew he'd never like it. But he also knew he was going to have to deal with it. That point Sandy made crystal clear.

Sandy waited for a minute as Ryan thought about what he said and tried to wrap his head around the fact he was going to have to accept help before moving onto the next subject. "About what you said about Kirsten."

"I'm sorry. That was wrong," Ryan said.

"Technically," Sandy told him, "it wasn't wrong. Technically, there is a difference between a guardian and a mother, as well as a guardian and a father. That doesn't mean we don't care about you just as much, because we do. Maybe we don't always show it, or maybe sometimes we show it too much. But no matter what you want to call us or what someone else calls us, we're still your family."

"It's just," Ryan tried to explain. "Don't you find it weird, when someone says that?"

Sandy shrugged and then shook his head. "Says what? Father? Mother? Parents? Son?" Nope, sorry. I don't find it weird at all. Neither does Kirsten. But remember, we were already parents with a son before you came along. All we did was add another son. You got stuck with an entirely new family to come to terms with."

"Yes, because the one I had was just so wonderful," Ryan snidely said. "I just. I don't always know how to respond to the whole thing."

Sandy finally sat on the bed next to Ryan. "I don't know how to help you with that one. They're just words, names. Nothing more. You are our foster son. Kirsten is your foster mother, Seth is your foster brother and I am your foster father. Call them titles, I guess. They don't erase your other family or change who you are. And they certainly don't affect the way we feel about you or the fact that you are a very important part of this family. Just try to remember that the next time someone forgets to add the word 'foster'. Okay?"

"Yeah. I'll try." Ryan thought about it for a minute. "I guess I should apologize to Kirsten."

"I think she'd like that," Sandy said. "Not so much for what you said, but how you said it. Your whole attitude."

Ryan smirked a little. "So, I guess I haven't been the easiest person to deal with today."

"Uh, no. You haven't," Sandy said. "I will admit though, you do have some valid reasons to be upset, even grumpy, but not nasty or surly. So I hope you don't plan on continuing that behavior. I'd hate to have to ground you after breaking your arm."

"Ground me from what? I can't go anywhere. I can't do anything. What could you possibly ground me from?" Ryan asked since he was more then a little shocked that Sandy would even threaten such a thing.

"Ryan," Sandy laughed. "You're only going to be under the weather for a couple of days. Your upset stomach should subside by tomorrow, and the pain in your arm should diminish gradually. In a few days you'll be going stir crazy and looking for something to do, at which point, I'd have to ground you from doing it."

"Thanks," Ryan said. "Appreciate your love and understanding."

"Anytime, kiddo, anytime," Sandy laughed again. "So what's say we get you dressed so we can finally be sprung from this joint."

Ryan watched as Sandy picked up his boxers first. "I hate this."  
  
"I know you do." Sandy didn't say anything else. He didn't want to give Ryan some false words of comfort since he knew there was no way Ryan would feel any kind of comfort in getting help pulling up a pair of boxers. Nor would he feel at ease with words as Sandy helped him into his sweatpants. And there was nothing to say as Sandy pulled off the hospital gown, and then bent down to put Ryan's sandals on his feet for him.

"Just so you know," Sandy finally said after Ryan was dressed. "Kirsten is going to want you to rest on the couch for the remainder of today, and probably all of tomorrow. Just don't argue with her, since it's an argument you won't win. She's going to want to keep a close eye on you and mother you to death. Or I guess I should say foster mother you to death."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." Ryan rolled his eyes. "Can't you just tell her that I'll be fine in the pool house? That if I need anything, I'll let you know."

Sandy shook his head. "I could. But I'm not. First of all, I don't think it would do any good. And second, I think I'd prefer you on the couch myself. Sorry kid, but I sort of have my doubts that you'll ask us for help if you're out in the pool house by yourself until it's too late. This way, we can be there to help as soon as we see you need it, especially if you're going to be sick again."

"Again with the love and understanding." Ryan muttered.

"Oh, we definitely love you. No doubt about that. And believe me, we understand you. That's why we want you on the couch." Sandy smiled as he headed for the door. "I think between the lingering effects of the anesthesia and the pain medication you'll be taking, you won't be awake long enough to care where you're sleeping."

Ryan looked down at the spot on the floor as Sandy opened the door to his room and Kirsten, Seth and the nurse came back in. He only glanced up briefly when he noticed that Seth and Kirsten both chose to stay on the other side of the room. He shouldn't have been upset since he did threaten Seth and insult Kirsten, but he was.

The nurse placed Ryan's chart on the table next to his bed and began to explain, "If you're all set, we just need to go over some discharge information. This form here explains what to look for in case of infection - fever, severe pain and/or swelling of the fingers, vomiting, chills and so forth. Any signs of infection, and you need to bring Ryan back. Also, in case the vomiting does not subside by tomorrow despite the Compazine, or if Ryan appears to be showing signs of dehydration as explained in this other form, than you need to bring him back as quickly as possible. If you have any questions or concerns, either phone the doctor's office or bring Ryan back. These are the prescriptions to be filled. One is for Percocet for pain. One is for Amoxicillin to fight infection and the other is for the Compazine. I'll give these to you, Mr. Cohen, and if you would just sign here, then your... Ryan will be ready to go. Any questions?"

"No, I think we're good." Sandy said as he reviewed and then signed the discharge summary.

Barbara looked at Ryan who was still staring at his feet. "Ryan, do you have any questions?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks." Ryan said softly, still looking down.

"Okay then, I just need to call down for a wheelchair, and you'll be ready to go." Barbara told them as she closed Ryan's chart.

It was then that Ryan finally looked up. "Don't bother, really. I can walk. I don't need a...." He quickly realized that it would be better not to finish the sentence when he saw the faces of Kirsten, Sandy and the nurse.

At least the nurse gave Ryan a smile. "Sorry. Hospital policy."

After the nurse left, Sandy handed the prescriptions to Seth. "Can you take these and get them filled for when Ryan gets home?" 

Seth looked down at the prescriptions Sandy handed him. "All three prescriptions?"

"Of course all three prescriptions." Kirsten said.

"Oh, well, I was just thinking, you know. Maybe, just maybe two would be okay." But when Kirsten and Sandy didn't answer him, Seth looked over at Ryan, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, well, okay. Sorry, bro."

Ryan smiled since he knew what Seth was suggesting. "Yeah. It's okay. But, um, me too. Sorry, I mean. About before."

"Don't worry about it. It's been a real crappy day for you. And hey, don't worry about these either," Seth said as he waved the prescriptions in the air. "Just maybe one of them will accidentally get lost on my way to the pharmacy. But shush, we wouldn't know which one, now would we?"

"Seth!" Sandy warned. "Take your mother's car and go get all three prescriptions filled."

Ryan couldn't help but laugh now. His arm still hurt and his stomach was still upset, but there were times when Seth could make him laugh simply by being Seth.

Seth threw up his arms in a mock surrender. "Ok, Ok. But you know, Dad, I think you mean my car. Or I should say our car. As in mine and Ryan's, not Mom's."

Ryan looked from Seth to Sandy and back to Seth. "Our car? What'd I miss?"

"During your little cat nap, surgery thing," Seth informed him. "Grandpa decided to give Mom a company car, and we inherited the Range Rover."

Ryan nodded first as if he were thinking very seriously before he deadpanned, "What, this doesn't warrant a fancy new convertible?"

"See, I said the same thing." Seth was very animated as he pointed first at Sandy and then to Ryan. "But apparently not. I guess Dad would have to break both your arms and maybe a leg or two for the convertible. For one broken arm, all we get is a used SUV!"

"And you're both asking for it to be taken away already," Kirsten said. "Seth, go. I want the medication to be at home when Ryan gets there. In case he needs it, I don't want to worry about him waiting for it. So go. Now."

Seth only nodded at Kirsten and then waved at Ryan, and decided to leave as quickly as possible. Ryan watched as Seth left and then looked back down at his feet. Kirsten obviously wasn't in the mood to joke or fool around. Not that Ryan could blame her. He had pushed her too far and then hurt her. She had every right to be really mad at him.

No one said anything for a minute, not until Ryan made a face and put his left hand to his stomach. The queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach just wouldn't go away, and Ryan was worried that he might get sick again.

"Is your stomach still upset?" Kirsten said as she took a step closer to the bed.  
  
"Yeah, a little," Ryan admitted. He was a little surprised by her concern, since she was still obviously mad at him.  
  
"So I guess no seafood feast this evening." Sandy said.

At first Ryan made a face since the idea didn't really sound very appealing to him at that particular moment. "Um, I'd say no. Not tonight. At least not for me. Thanks."

Kirsten scanned the information the nurse had left them. "It says here that Ryan should start on clear liquids. Ginger ale, tea, broth. Things like that, and then progress slowly to solid foods as tolerated. We have that all at home, don't we?"

"I don't know," Sandy said. "I would guess we have tea but I don't know about broth or ginger ale."

"Maybe you should run out now and get everything before we get home." Kirsten told him as she handed Sandy back the discharge information.

"And how would you and Ryan get home? We can stop on our way home." Sandy said.

Kirsten shook her head. "I'd rather we just get Ryan home."

Although Ryan really wanted to tell them not to worry about it, that whatever they had at home would be fine, he figured that probably wasn't a very bright idea, so instead he said, "Um, guys? You could just call Seth? Tell him what to get."

Before Sandy or Kirsten had a chance to answer, Barbara returned. "Sorry for the delay. Someone should be right here with the wheelchair. Mr. or Mrs. Cohen, one of you can go get the car and bring it around to the front entrance."  
  
"I'll go." Sandy said. He turned to walk out of the room as Kirsten called after him, "When you get outside, make sure you call Seth and tell him what else to get. Gator Aid, too. Make sure he buys Gator Aid. And tell him if he gets home before us to bring Ryan's pillow and a blanket into the den."

Sandy smirked at Ryan as he tilted his head towards Kirsten and then walked out to get the car and give Ryan and Kirsten a chance to talk.

Barbara turned to follow Sandy out. "Goodbye Ryan, Mrs. Cohen. Take care and good luck."

Ryan only nodded at the nurse as Kirsten said, "Goodbye, and thank you for everything."

After the nurse left, leaving Ryan alone with Kirsten, he realized he had no idea what to say, or rather, how to say it. So he just looked down at his feet, stealing small glances up to see if he could read her face, judge how mad she still was. He jumped when Kirsten said, "Aren't you cold?"

He looked up to see Kirsten pointing towards his chest. "Nah, I'm good. Besides my tee shirt is still in the back of the car. The Range Rover, I mean."

"Oh, you mean, your car." Kirsten joked.

"Yeah." Ryan said as he nodded his head and looked down at his feet again. After a pause, he quietly said, "I'm sorry."

"I know." Kirsten said softly.

Ryan finally looked up and looked her in the eyes. "It's just. It's been a really bad day."

Kirsten smiled and reached out to brush the hair off his face. "Yeah. I know that, too." As the orderly pushed the wheelchair into the room, she added, "So, let's get you home then."

"Wheelchair, huh?" Ryan asked as he made a face, but Kirsten told him, "Yes. Wheelchair."

Kirsten laid one hand on Ryan's shoulder and held onto his left arm with her other hand as Ryan stood up, let out a sigh and sat down in the wheelchair. "Well, at least Seth's not here to do wheelies."

"Why do you think we sent him out ahead of us?" Kirsten laughed.

Ryan laughed too, until he yawned. "Don't worry, we'll be home soon. You can get some sleep there." Kirsten said. 

"You know," Ryan told her. "I'd probably sleep better in bed instead of on the den couch."

Kirsten patted Ryan's shoulder as she said, "Fine. Do you want the room across the hall from Seth's or the one next door?"

"I like my room," Ryan said.

Kirsten smiled. "Yeah, I believe you said that already."

"So, I can..." Ryan started but Kirsten said, "No."

"But it doesn't make..." Ryan again started but Kirsten said, "No."

"I really want to..." Ryan tried one last time, and Kirsten cut him off one last time. "No."

"Can you say something other then No?" Ryan asked, and Kirsten laughed as she said, "No."

Ryan couldn't help but roll his eyes. Sandy was definitely right that it was a losing argument. "It makes no sense," he mumbled.

As they waited for the elevator, the orderly decided to join in the discussion for some reason. "Listen to your mother and stop giving her such a hard time, kid. Be nice! I'm sure she knows best, and besides, she's the only Mom you're ever gonna get!"

Kirsten held her breath for a second, hoping Ryan wouldn't get upset and would just let the comment slide. She prayed Ryan would remember that the orderly wouldn't know any different, and that he was just trying to joke. She laid her hand on his shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, and Ryan gave her a quick side-glance and offered a slight smile.

"I don't know," Ryan finally said. "I think I may be able to find one that doesn't cut my Jell-o into small pieces and who lets me sleep in my own bed."

Kirsten laughed. Harder then the joke called for, but relieved that Ryan would joke about it. "Oh, you think so? You think you could find someone else willing to put up with Grumpy Ryan?"

"Grumpy Ryan?" Ryan snorted.

"Seth's new nickname for you," Kirsten told him. "And if the name fits...."

"Hey, I thought I have the right to be grumpy. Sandy said so." Ryan tried to sound indignant, but thought he remembered someone saying something about Grumpy Ryan sometime during the day.

"Yeah, well, Sandy was just feeling guilty for breaking your arm." Kirsten said. "Grumpy Ryan is no fun, and trust me, only family could possibly love him."

Ryan could only shake his head as he tried to hide his smile. "So, I guess that means you're stuck with me."

"Yip, and you're stuck with us." Kirsten smiled as they got to the front entrance and saw Sandy waiting to take them home.

"I still say it's going to be a long summer." Ryan announced to no one in particular as both Sandy and Kirsten helped him into the back of the BMW.

"Well, at least this day is finally behind us, and the rest won't be that bad. We'll just take it one day at a time," Sandy told him as Kirsten said, "I'm sure you'll feel better after a nap. A nice long nap on the den couch."

Ryan only groaned and closed his eyes.

As Sandy drove home, Ryan knew Sandy was half right. His long day might finally over, but he knew his long summer was only just beginning....


End file.
